Reluctant
by TakingBackSunday
Summary: “I’m wearing my Slytherin knickers.” She offered feebly. “I’ll be able to spot those easily during the match.” Granger, she’s Malfoy’s. This is their forbidden affair.
1. Sides

**A/N:-P Yep, another story.**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

The last chapter of 'What if' is in the process of being finished; I just need to edit it! Whoo!

Summary : "I'm wearing my Slytherin knickers." "I'll be able to spot that easily during the match."  
Granger; she's Malfoy's. This is their forbidden affair.

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Chapter One:

The scorching water poured; burning him. He did not care. The intense heat of the water produced steam, filling the entire lavatory. The simple task of showering oneself wasn't so simple, when it involved Draco Malfoy. The intensity of his shower seemed to mirror his current mood. A warm shower meant he was fairly content, happy. A cold shower usually indicated his feelings of frustration, as the temperature of his water plummeted, the frustration intensifies. Scorching hot water revealed his anger. Jealously. Confusion. Annoyance. Hot water released an array of his emotions.

000

She was alarmed by the sounds of running water. He never woke up before eight on Saturdays…

'Unless there's Quidditch match.' Inwardly she groaned at the thought.

The opening match of the Quidditch season. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin; no better way to open the season. The biggest rival teams revealing to one another how much they'd improved... or how much they _hadn't _improved, over the summer holidays.

The water stopped running.

Hermione Granger's eyes left her book, wandering to the antique muggle clock on her bedside table. She had more or less twenty minutes to ready herself for breakfast. The match being after breakfast, of course.

She was already dressed for the match, clad in simple muggle jeans and a form fitted scarlet top, 'Gryffindors' adorning the front.

'He's upset.' Hermione thought. He always took lengthy showers when he was particularly bothered.

Sighing, she closed her book, gently placing it on her bedside table. Hermione then stood from her bed, heading to the lavatory she shared with the Head Boy.

She entered without knocking, the steam assaulting her as she stepped inside. The Head Girl sighted his outline inside the shower, drying off.

Or avoiding her.

With the flick of her wand, the bothersome mist instantly disappeared. Satisfied, Hermione then studied reflection.

"You're going to the match--" Came his deep, husky voice. It was a statement, not really a question.

Hermione merely gave a slight nod as she retouched the very little make-up she wore. She saw his reflection appear behind hers in the large mirror.

"I suppose you'll be there for _them_." He continued. Her eyes caught his in the mirror.

'Is this what's bothering him?' Hermione asked herself.

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't know who I attend the matches for."

"But what I **do **know is whose side you sit on." He spat back.

She spun around to meet his glare.

"Would you rather I sit on _your _side, Draco? I'm sure your housemates will enjoy being in the presence of a Mudblood Gryffindor."

Malfoy said nothing-- but his actions always spoke volumes. She saw his fist clench tighter on the towel that clung lazily on his waist.

He grunted something incoherent before his mirror image disappeared from Hermione's sight.

Closing her eyes, she slowly exhaled. His levels of maturity... or lack of it, varied. Just as his moods did. She wondered at times how he managed to be elected as Head Boy with his childish outbursts, an example being what just happened in their Heads lavatory.

If he even cared just a _little_ about her, why would he suggest that she sit with those sickening slimy Slytherins?

Finally satisfied with her appearance, Hermione made her way back into her room. It was a chilly November morning, she decided to complement her simple scarlet top with a Gryffindor embellished cloak. She draped it over her arm before heading to the common room she shared with Malfoy.

000

Leant against one of various armchairs in their common room, Malfoy tightly grasped his broom with his left hand; clad in Slytherin Quidditch robes. They couldn't walk to the Great Hall together, but he always waited.

He had his back to her, but Malfoy heard her soft footsteps against the hardwood flooring. Then he felt her occupy the armchair he was propped against.

"If it's any consolation, I'm wearing my Slytherin knickers..." She offered feebly.

Hermione didn't see it, but he smirked.

"I'm sure I'll be able to spot _those_ easily during the match." Malfoy drawled sarcastically.

"Draco--" She began.

Swiftly, he pushed himself off the armchair.

She stood, following as he swaggered to the portrait; he was leaving.

Hermione had expected him to depart without a good-bye--

--she was startled when he abruptly turned around, causing her to collide into his toned chest.

"I guess I'll have to wait until later on tonight to see those knickers of yours." He said in a low, suggestive whisper, placing a short kiss on her forehead.

Before the exchange could continue between the two seventh year Hogwarts students, Malfoy had already made his exit.

000

Several moments before the Head Girl arrived (which was done deliberately), Draco Malfoy had already strutted confidently into the Great Hall.

He took a seat at the Slytherin table, his eyes scanning the Gryffindor table as he did so.

Pothead and Weasel. Malfoy's knuckles went white at the mere sight of them. He observed the two idiots, laughing at something moronic the poverty-stricken redhead had said.

Malfoy's lip curled in disgust.

'How can _she _voluntarily spend more time than necessary with those oafs?'

Suddenly, Weasley's eyes were clouded with lust, noticing _someone _enter the Great Hall.

Malfoy's eyes darted to the entrance as well, knowing who it was Weasley was lusting after. The entire bloody school knew... it was a little more than obvious. But _she _acted as if shewere completely oblivious to this truth, which angered Malfoy even more.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl, pride of the Gryffindor House.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. Standing at 5'6 to Malfoy's 6'3. Thankfully, having matured throughout her years in Hogwarts, she learned to tame what once was a bush on her head-- she called that bush hair. No longer bushy, she styled her hair to cascade in soft ringlets, a little past her shoulder. With her jeans being so annoyingly concealing, Malfoy couldn't enjoy a view of her _very _shapely legs. Hidden beneath her layers of the mandatory school uniform (which she wore five days out of the week) were curves that drove Malfoy wild- a toned, flat stomach, and humble but satisfying breasts. How she attained the legs and body of a goddess left Malfoy wondering. She was the most lethargic woman he knew- when it came to maintaining her body, exercising. Although he adored her body, he believed the eyes were Hermione's best feature. Her striking hazel eyes. They were so alluring, seductive- she had the ability to do _anything_, given she used them correctly. She did, after all, capture his hea-

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Came a remark from beside him.

Blaise Zabini; Malfoy's only trusted housemate and unsurprisingly his best mate since infancy, was eyeing Hermione knowingly.

Zabini did not miss the flicker of panic in Malfoy's eyes before his look 'admiration' directed at Hermione transformed into a glare.

"If you're willing to stoop down to that level of filth, I suppose she's _decent_." Draco spat with revulsion, lying through his bloody teeth.

"Tsk, the 'ew, mudblood' bullshit doesn't cut it with me anymore, mate." Blaise spoke quietly- he's known Malfoy his entire life, of course it was clear to him when Malfoy blatantly lied to his face.

"We'll talk after the match, Zabini."

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_(Revised: 03.05.08)_

Tada.

What'd you guys think!

Next up : The match, Draco and Blaise's 'talk'.

Review, review, review!

Kristine.


	2. Bravo!

**A/N: This is insane! 61 reviews for the first chapter? I am so very flattered! Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

Here I go!

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Chapter Two

Ronald Weasley...

...Was making Hermione _terribly _uncomfortable.

It was customary for the Head Girl to escort the Keeper of the Gryffindors to his team locker room, this was not at all a Hogwarts tradition. Merely a routine between friends, the young man being her best friend of six years. Harry always went ahead-- being team captain had its responsibilities, and he always took the said responsibilites _way_ too seriously. Always leaving for the changing rooms an entire hour earlier than necessary. On the day of a match, the walk to the pitch reduced the _Golden Trio_ to a _Golden Duo_.

Or to most, a _Golden Couple_. Hermione, ever so considerate of Ron's feelings, never vocalized how much she loathed having to be one half of the _Golden Couple_. She and Malfoy never spoke of the darling nickname, but only an idiot would think Hermione being paired with Ron Weasley would not bother the Slytherin.

…did Ron really _have _to wrap his arm around her waist, almost intimately. His unwanted behavior wasn't a recent development. Throughout their years in Hogwarts, Ron's confidence in himself grew. And with that, his affectionate _acts _intensified.

She simply smiled at his gestures... wanting to do nothing but wrench his freckled arm off of her. The occupants of Hogwarts, yes, even the professors- saw _every_ touch, every whisper…every smile she faked, every instance she _chose _to overlook. Hermione saw the frustrated looks on their faces every instance she did nothing to return or deny her affection for him-- she wasn't as oblivious as everyone inaccurately assumed. They all believed she was completely unaware, but she was more than aware, she was _extremely _tired of the situation.

**000**

The sky was clear…a refreshing crisp breeze… ideal weather for a game of Quidditch between two rivals.

Zabini walked beside Malfoy, heading for their changing room. He had managed to get Malfoy talking (he was never really talkative before matches) as they sighted the changing rooms and... **them**.

Weasley's hideous freckled arm was plastered onto **her **waist.

Malfoy was in the process of finishing a mumbled response to a question Zabini had asked but it was quickly forgotten.

Zabini listened as his best mate exhaled deeply, calming himself. If he had any doubts about his best mate's involvement with Hermione Granger, Malfoy's obvious attempt to contain his jealousy ended any of the doubting.

With a determined mindset, Zabini nudged Malfoy, grinning slightly before walking away.

Malfoy could only stare at Zabini's receding figure, he slowed down once reaching the two Gryffindors.

The Head Boy slowed his strides a bit, not wanting to walk into the mess Zabini was planning to make-- he watched his best mate closely..

"What are you bloody up to, Zabini?"

000

"Well, well, well--isn't this _just_ lovely?" Zabini drawled, elegantly prying the two apart with his hard body. Having successfully forced himself between the two, he draped an arm over each of their shoulders.

He could literally feel the anger radiating from Ron.

"Weasley... this is _not_ appropriate behavior for a pureblood, mixing with non-purebloods. You know," He paused, eyeing Hermione unimpressed. ".._mudbloods_."

Ron gave what sounded like a growl before struggling out of Zabini's strong hold on him.

"Take. That. Back." The redhead demanded, breathless.

"Thank you", Hermione mouthed to Zabini. The look of discomfort present on her face before Zabini intervened was no longer evident.

'She knows what I was up to?' He thought impressed.

Zabini only gave a subtle nod before gently releasing her from his grasp and giving her friend a rough shove.

The exchange between Hermione and the Slytherin went unnoticed by Ron, still recovering from the shove.

Watching their intruder retreat, the redhead made a move to continue their _intimate_ walk. Pretending to overlook this, Hermione quickly stepped away from Ron, allowing a sufficient amount of space between them.

"Don't let me see you touching her again, you wouldn't want the Dark Lord hearing about it. Blood traitors are second to go after the mudbloods." Zabini called over his shoulder casually.

000

Gracefully looking over her shoulder, Hermione watched her _savior_ as he sauntered back to Malfoy-- so, Zabini _knew_.

His little _stunt _being his way of showing Hermione (and Malfoy) he had no ill feelings towards her. Though Hermione _knew_ Zabini did not need to feign his great dislike for Ron…

Silver and hazel met.

His eyes gleamed in acknowledgement before he smirked. Malfoy nodded his head towards Ron, who was already entering the Gryffindor changing room.

Hermione wanted to do nothing but scold Malfoy for his foolish jealousy, but at the same time, she was very grateful for it. Ron's advances were beginning to become a nuisance.

Sighing, she continued down the path leading to the Quidditch pitch.

000

"I want a _nice_, **clean** game. Captains-- shake hands." Madame Hooche ordered, calling upon Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter from their respective team clusters.

"Your snitch catching streak ends today, Potter." Malfoy hissed, tightening his grip on the Gryffindor's hand.

"Funny, every year you say that... and yet _every_ year you are **unable **to deliver." Harry spat back.

000

Shortly, the booming voice of the commentator filled the pitch:

"….And they're off!"

Hermione struggled to concentrate on the players clad in scarlet-- her traitorous eyes insisting on following a certain Slytherin instead.

Ginevra Weasley had a firm grip on the Head Girl's arm, Hermione feeling the younger girl's anticipation grow as she tightened her hold.

"YES! Did you see that? Dean almost sent that bludger to Malfoy's head!" Ginny exlaimed. "JUST DON'T MISS NEXT TIME!" She was addressing Dean but he obviously did not hear her. Hermione winced, indeed seeing Malfoy scarcely dodge the bludger. And unlike Ginny, she hoped her team's beater would continue missing.

In retaliation to the attempted hit, Malfoy swiftly hurtled past Dean, nearly causing a fifty foot fall for the Gryffindor beater.

"Bloody hell!" Ginny squealed.

"We are almost half an hour into this match, the defense of both teams is astounding! Not a point has been scored! Yes, you heard me correctly, not one measly point!

"OH! Finally, the game gets good! It seems Potter and Malfoy have spotted the snitch!"

The two Seekers had both taken very sharp 40 foot dives, in fervent attempts to capture the elusive Golden Snitch.

Hermione gasped loudly-- out of concern for which young man, she did not know.

The cheering was deafening, along with the _entire _Gryffindor house, she felt the excruciating anticipation . With bated breaths, they awaited the outcome. But unlike the crowd surrounding her, Hermione did not chant "Go, Go, Gryffindor". She remained quiet-- didn't cheer nor jeer at the opposing team. Whichever the opposing team was.

Hermione forced herself to focus on Harry's outstretched hand… though when she saw _his_ pale hand pull ahead to embrace the Golden Snitch, she couldn't resist the joy she felt.

"Oh… Slytherin wins!" Came the late, less than enthusiastic announcement.

Unexpectedly, terrified gasps followed the commentator's dejected declaration.

"My new broomstick was depending on my earnings from this matc--MERLIN… **Bloody **_fucking _MERLIN! Ladies and gentlemen- are you watching this? Before we could utter 'sore loser', Harry Potter has already 'avenged' the _death _of his snitch catching streak! Are our eyes deceiving us or did we just **WITNESS **HARRY POTTER FLY ACROSS THE FIELD IN ORDER TO TAKE THE BEATER BAT FROM DEAN THOMAS- HITTING A BLUDGER NOW HEADING STRAIGHT FOR…."

'DRACO!' Hermione thought in mortified panic. She was rooted at the stands powerlessly, staring at the bludger as it rocketed across the Quidditch field. Hermione nearly felt the impact of the bludger as it collided with Malfoy's ribcage.

Even at an unconscious state, Malfoy managed to remain graceful, falling elegantly. He had been hovering twenty-five feet over the ground when he'd caught the snitch; his limp, unconscious body landed with a deafening _thud_.

"HARRY POTTER! REPORT TO MY OFFICE, **NOW**." Boomed Minerva Mcgonagall's voice through the magical intercom system.

As the venomous demand roared throughout the pitch, students crowded around the possibly fatally wounded Head Boy.

"_Move_." Severus Snape hissed dangerously, shoving unimportant students (to him at least) out of his way in order to reach _his _only praise-worthy pupil.

"He has fractured two ribs, and there is a possibility of internal bleeding….."

000

"You. Are. An. Idiot." Hermione spat viciously. She was asked to accompany Harry to the Deputy Headmistresses' office, being Head Girl, of course it was an obligation.

She was livid. Not only did her idiot best friend injure her _boyfriend _(although Harry was very unaware), he was also keeping her from being with Malfoy at the Infirmary (again, Harry was very unaware). His violent behavior had called for Hermione to fulfill her Head duties, having been summoned to be at the Deputy Headmistresses' side.

She stood beside Mcgonagall's enormous office chair, fiercely staring Harry down.

"Miss Granger, I do not think idiot is enough to describe his stupidity today. What the hell were you thinking, Potter?"

Harry, staring at his hand intently, looked up.

"I--"

"You know what? I do not want to hear your pathetic excuses, Potter. Because no matter what you say-- Malfoy will still be unnecessarily injured. And you, you'll be _very _necessarily suspended off the team until further notice." McGonagall was seething as she spoke.

Harry sat frozen in his chair, speechless. He looked to Hermione for support-- to defend him.

….Nothing.

"It's not doubtful that you have given the entire school great reason to speak badly of our well respected Gryffindor house, Potter. We will not tolerate this type of violent behavior again. Next time you choose to injure a student, make sure you have packed your belongings." McGonagall then turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you are no longer needed here. In actuality, I have summoned you to ask that you check up on Mr. Malfoy's condition. Report back to me once you have."

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione answered, giving Harry a meaningful look as she walked towards the door.

The Boy Who Lived read her eyes perfectly : _This is not finished._

000

Malfoy nearly gagged, the potion Madame Pomfrey forced down his throat was beyond disgusting.

Eyeing him with pity, she caught the goblet he nearly dropped.

"You poor boy." She patted his cheek in a way only a mother would, "You are in for a painful night, I'm afraid. Your two broken ribs will be growing back. Just rest!" Madame Pomfrey then pointed Malfoy's remaining visitor, she had sent the large crowd of Slytherins (including Snape) away. "Zabini, I have strict instructions from the head of the Slytherin house that you be in here at all times tonight. To keep Mr. Malfoy company, I suppose. Any bed is open for your slumber." And with that, she headed to her office.

Malfoy nodded absently, his silver eyes once again drifting to the Infirmary entrance.

'Twenty-seven times you've _expectantly_ looked over at those doors, mate.' Zabini mentally noted as he seated himself on the edge of his best mate's stiff bed, slyly observing the injured Slytherin.

"I, uh, saw her... heading to Mcgonagall's office on my way here." He offered quietly.

Malfoy did not reply, but he heard him.

Zabini did not fail to notice the change in Malfoy's posture (with a struggle he sat up slightly), hearing heels clicking against the stone floors of the castle. The footsteps were distant at first, but grew louder and louder.

Then it was silent--

--she then stood at the doorway, reluctant to enter.

"Aww, here we were thinking you didn't care." Zabini joked warily, not wanting to upset her.

Hermione gave Malfoy a look of understandable hesitance, he weakly nodded, beckoning her to him.

She stepped into the Infirmary.

But instead of immediately going to Malfoy, however, she withdrew her wand from her cloak. Hermione closed the door, muttered a few spells, then _finally _walked to Malfoy's bed.

_Madame Pomfrey deviously watched from her office with a knowing smile before resuming her work_.

Zabini, stood as Hermione neared.

"I'm Blaise Zabini, I don't think we've been properly acquainted." He held his hand out politely.

"Hermione Granger." She replied with a smile, placing her hand in his. Her smile abruptly faltered though-- hazel eyes meeting Malfoy's injured state.

Her hand left Zabini's, only to place itself over her mouth.

"Draco." Hermione at once at his side.

Malfoy looked away from her concerned eyes, raising an expectant eyebrow at Zabini, silently requesting privacy.

"I'm going to ask Madame Pomfrey if she thinks I'm worthy of being a mediwizard." Zabini grinned before making his way to the office.

Once alone, Malfoy shifted a little, offering her a seat on his bed.

As she seated herself, she ran tentative fingers through his sweat dampened hair.

"Shouldn't you be off being devastated with the other Gryffindors?" Malfoy said quietly, closing his eyes in response to her caresses.

"Currently, I am sickened at the thought of being Gryffindor, I am ashamed enough for myself and Harry... He didn't _just _injure any student, he injured _you_." Hermione's voice softened.

"Hermione, I'm fine." Malfoy reassured her, his present scowl dissipating. He inhaled deeply as a wave of pain surged throughout his upper body. Malfoy rested his forehead against the crook of her neck, taking a series of deep breaths. Out of agony, he clutched the sheets, Hermione placed a hand on his balled up fist.

"Draco, you are far from fine."

"Pain could have been easily forgotten and replaced with anger if you were off somewhere comforting Potter instead of coming here to see me." He spat as the pain subsided, lifting his head from the rather 'intimate' position on Hermione's neck.

"Is your jealousy supposed to be flattering? Honestly, Draco, jealousy is very unbecoming on you." Hermione replied frigidly, abruptly releasing his hand from hers.

"If you came here for an argument, leave." Malfoy spat harshly.

Hermione leapt off the bed, offended.

"Yes, Draco. I came here to provoke you while in your injured state! Sorry, you'll be disappointed in knowing that your take on my intention is incorrect-- I was instructed by McGonagall to see how you were doing. You say you're fine, now excuse me, I must report back to her!" With an added '_hmph_', Hermione turned to leave.

"I see. I was foolish to think you would willingly visit me." Malfoy spoke to her back with resentment.

She spun back around, a withering glare concealing the hurt she felt.

"I don't know how many more times I can tolerate hearing you doubt my feelings for you, Draco."

He found himself staring at her back once more as she expertly waved her wand, resulting in the disarmament of her charms. With one last flick of her wand, the doors swung open. Without a mumbled goodbye, or even a glance over her shoulder-- she left.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath, were it not for his injuries, Malfoy would have already caught up with her.

He then heard weak applause. "Bravo, bravo! That was excellent, mate!" Zabini said in sarcastic enthusiasm as he emerged from the office.

"Enough, Zabini." Malfoy growled.

"She'll be back. You're the one at fault here, but you're also in _pain_."

Malfoy took some comfort in his housemate's words but hid it well. He just vacantly stared at the plain ceiling, not replying.

Zabini had summoned a comfortable armchair beside Malfoy's bed. Sitting, he eyed his injured companion expectantly.

"What?" Malfoy spat irritated-- eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"I'm waiting for that 'talk' you spoke of during breakfast. Or have you already forgotten?"

"Oh. Right." The Head Boy looked down at his pale hands before meeting the eyes of the young man he's known his entire life.

"Where to begin, Zabini?" Malfoy gave a little smirk.

"_How_?"

"Well…for the past five years before sixth year, I never really had to do my work in Potions. I _can_ brew potions magnificently, mind you, but since Snape praised my work even if my cauldron were full of dung, it's fair to say I did absolutely nothing in his bloody classes. Sixth year. Slughorn takes the position as Potions professor--"

"Ah yes, and your grades dropped in that class faster than you did today during the match." Zabini chuckled.

"If there is _anyone_ to thank for this, I suppose it would be my mother..."

Flashback:

"_Draco Malfoy,_" His mother purred through the Howler. He wasn't fooled, hearing the poison of anger laced with the soothing nature of her voice. "_I have received my weekly report of your marks. Imagine my '**mild' **surprise when I discovered that in your **best** subject, **POTIONS**, your grade has dropped **considerably**_. _Your Headmaster has assigned a tutor to you, upon my immediate request. I have scheduled an appointment with your Headmaster, you are to meet with him tonight. He will discuss the schedule he and I have planned out for your tutoring sessions. I am assuming you'll be meeting your tutor also. _

Do not disappoint me, Draco.

Your Mother.

The Howler tore itself up, leaving Malfoy dumbfounded.

End Flashback.

"I should have _known_! Granger was your tutor last year. So it began middle of sixth year? Hell, I was under the impression this was a recent development."

"Don't be dense. It didn't occur at once. The courtship was _very_ gradual. Began towards the end." Malfoy was avoiding Zabini's eyes yet again.

"Dense? Me? I wasn't expecting you to say you walked into Dumbledore's office, caught sight of her and snogged her silly!"

"So we're finished here?" The blond asked sounding somewhat hopeful.

"Finished? We have _all_ night, mate. And I like my bedtime stories _very_ detailed."

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_(Revised 03.05.08)_

Tada!

REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!

So, we know a little bit about how the two got together!

Next chapter, Draco and Blaise continue their chat. And….MORE FLASHBACKS!

Kristine.


	3. Storytime

To answer the question of how come Hermione and Blaise weren't already acquainted at the Slug Club meetings, well I decided not to incorporate that into my story. I don't think I will be incorporating much of the HBP into my story!

**Apathetic Empath2: **Thanks for the constructive criticism!"_And you need to work on your grammar. When you're writing dialogue, and you're breaking the dialogue into another paragraph, you need beginning quotes for that new paragraph." _See, I didn't know that. I've read seen it done without new quotes. But I'll do it the correct way from now on!

_"Also, I think you use colons a little too liberally. Use commas instead." I was thinking that while I was working on this chapter, I'll use commas more but I'll still be tempted to use some colons._ Haha. I was thinking that while I was working on this chapter, I'll use commas more but I'll still be tempted to use colons. Haha.

About the jumping around, I thought I did it a little too much in chapter two, I don't usually do it too much. I'm not too worried about my characters being a _little _out of character though, but I'll take your advice into consideration!

To my other reviewers,

thank you for all the feedback! I really appreciate it!

Review this chapter **also,** please

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Chapter Three:

Hermione bit her lip. True, she _had_ stormed out of the Infirmary but found herself **only **half a corridor away from Malfoy.

'I've probably upset him... Merlin knows anger can possibly worsen his injuries.' She always did worry too much about him.

Her steps echoed eerily against the stone walls of the castle as she once again made her way to the Infirmary. Dim candlelight emitted from slightly ajar double doors.

As Hermione neared she heard his deep voice…

"_Don't be dense. It didn't occur at once. The courtship was very gradual. Began towards the end_."

"_Dense? Me? I wasn't expecting you to say you walked into Dumbledore's office, caught sight of her and snogged her silly_!" Hermione heard Zabini reply defensively. Her hand flew to her mouth to muffle a giggle. Cold stone met her hands as they eased her descend to the floor; she had taken a seat beside the somewhat partially opened doors. Intent on listening to Malfoy's account of how their courtship had commenced.

"… _And I like my bedtime stories very detailed_."

000

"Go on. Don't be shy, Drake." Zabini smirked lightheartedly.

"Hey, fuck you."

"Quit stalling Malfoy." The raven haired young man chuckled at the sense of humor his best mate was lacking at the moment.

"Yes, continuing on…Hmm, well, I assure you the meeting in Dumbledore's office was nothing extraordinary. I strode into the office, with my usual air of superiority. She was sat across the Headmaster's desk, beside a seat I supposed was for me. My lip curled in revulsion, knowing I'd have to endure sitting _beside _a Mudb-- a Muggle-born throughout the **entire **meeting…--"

"Ah, come on Malfoy. When I said _bedtime_ stories, I didn't expect you to _actually_ take it literally," Zabini exclaimed somewhat impatiently. "You're putting me to sleep here, man." He finished bluntly.

"What happened to your liking of _details_?"

"Argh! Still am very fond of detailed stories. But let's not forget I've **witnessed **this part of your account many occasions already. 'Mudblood, ew'! 'Stupid Ferret'! You yourself stated nothing extraordinary occurred so why bother telling that portion of the story when you know it'll bore me to death. Sooo, skip to the first tutoring session, that should be worthy of my interest."

"All right…If I can recall correctly; I arrived at the library drenched with sweat, and still clad in my Quidditch uniform…Practice went a little late that evening, you see--"

Flashback:

Lazily carrying his Potions book, Malfoy strode _slowly, _heading to the Hogwarts Library. His sluggish pace seemed to do nothing, however, he soon found himself pulling the brass door handles of library open.

Unsurprisingly, only a few students were scattered about the various tables. Malfoy's silver-gray eyes scanned each table in a swift hawk-like motion. Locating his tutor, he made his way to her table.

Hermione was engulfed with whatever she was fervently scribbling about on a seven foot long piece of parchment. Occasionally she looked to her left, where a book rested, open for easy reference. Her hair seemed to have been thrown in a careless bun, soft ringlets falling over her eyes.

He tossed his book casually on the table, resulting in a 'thud' as it hit the wood. Snapping her out of her studious daze.

The sight her eyes met did not appeal to her at all.

His once primly kept white blonde tresses were tousled, soaked with perspiration. Clad not in his required school uniform, but in filthy Slytherin Quidditch robes. If possible, his skin seemed to have gotten paler. The little color his skin had were the dark circles below his silver eyes.

"You look awful." Hermione declared bluntly.

"Talking to yourself, Mudblood?" He spat back as he took a seat at the table, of course choosing one furthest from his tutor.

"That was weak, but an insult nonetheless. Malfoy after years of being ridiculed by _you_ simply because of my parentage, I think it's only proper I do the same." Hermione stopped short in order to study his **tired **face once more. "My father may be a Muggle, but you don't see me losing sleep because he's imprisoned."

Her implication was quickly understood by the Slytherin Seeker, she thought his dark circles were the result of lack of sleep because of his father's current residence at Azkaban Prison.

His eyes shifted to the potions book before him, avoiding her eyes.

"I don't have time for bullshit, Granger." Malfoy forcefully opened the book with apparent restrained anger.

"Neither do I. Did you expect to be treated _differently _because of your father's capture? Pitied? An easier workload? Did you _really_ expect _anyone _to be saddened by Lucius' imprisonment? Hardly. _Voldemort_ is rumored to want your father dead-"

"Shut your fucking mouth." He hissed.

"Of course, how silly of me, none of this is new to you. The thought of your father dying at the hands the Dark Lord keeps you awake at night, doesn't it?" She stood, shoving her belongings into her already overstuffed book bag. "Your first lesson: Don't mess with me this year."

End Flashback

Zabini found the Infirmary floor particularly interesting immediately after Malfoy had finished. The blond sensed the impact of his words on Zabini; he felt immense discomfort, not knowing how to respond.

Thankfully, Malfoy spoke before he could.

"Any mention of my father's imprisonment… Even now, I still can't handle having it brought up. You can imagine the anger I felt after that first session. But retaliating would do nothing. Instead, I became distant. More distant than I already was towards her. Spoke only if it were completely necessary. Tutorials, she would teach, I listened. We functioned that way successfully for three months. But then everything began to change… As always we were in the library, the potion of discussion, Polyjuice. But a first year rushed to our table before we could begin…"

Flashback:

"An urgent message from the Headmaster." The first year said sounding utterly terrified. Malfoy just stared blankly at the envelope shaking in the boy's outstretched hand. At long last, he took it.

Hermione watched him closely as he read, looking for any emotion that helped provide an explanation as to why he had received an **urgent** message from their headmaster.

Slowly, he arose from his seat, glaring fiercely at her; the letter crushed in his fist.

He gave a hollow chuckle. "I hope you're satisfied. I hope you're **ALL **satisfied." He bellowed, looking around at the students at surrounding tables, the grief apparent in his eyes. Malfoy threw the balled up piece of parchment before her, afterwards storming off.

Perplexed and very intrigued, Hermione undid the ball Malfoy had scrunched the parchment into.

Mr. Malfoy.

I regret to inform you that your father, Lucius Malfoy, has been condemned to receive the Dementor's Kiss. Due to his involvement with the Dark Lord. Your mother would have notified you herself were it not for the state of utter shock the news has put her in. She is recuperating at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries at the moment. She is doing well, once she is fully recovered she will be coming to Hogwarts to speak with you. _Don't burden yourself with homework or classes, take all the time you need to truly realize the situation your father is facing. _

My deepest condolences.

Albus Dumbledore.

Sighing, Hermione let go of the letter in her hand, overcome with guilt. Like Voldemort himself, Lucius personified the harsh prejudices Muggles and Muggle-borns still endured. Indeed she was satisfied in knowing he would not be released from Azkaban but quite the contrary. Lucius had not been able to bribe his way out as others had. So why the guilt? Because of their exchange the first session. She had meant every word, but she had not meant to be so harsh. The intent of her severity only to irritate him enough to view their tutorials seriously, that tutorials were not going to be nightly opportunities to taunt her. Somehow, she had managed to do more than just silence his insults and rude remarks-- she silenced him entirely, almost. They hardly spoke in the company of one another. It wasn't the first occasion she'd retaliated, but the few times she had didn't stop his ridiculing. Reference of his father's capture that night changed Malfoy's malice towards her; an overnight loss of his delight in baiting her into an argument.

"I'm going to regret this." She muttered to herself, rushing out of the library in pursuit of Malfoy.

The corridors were littered with students desperately yearning for any excuse to avoid the homework awaiting them at their Common Rooms. After questioning a few of those said students, Hermione was directed to a courtyard. Malfoy was said to have been seen sitting on a bench…

'There he is..' Hermione groaned inwardly, what was she going to say?

He was sat on a stone bench, his face buried in his hands. The wind sweeping over his blonde tresses repeatedly, causing him to constantly run lazy fingers through his hair with annoyance. The trees danced in the wind as well, eerie rustling of leaves the only sound penetrating the silence-- save a cricket once in awhile.

"Malfoy--" Hermione heard herself say. "What do you want me to say? I can't say I'm sorry, they would be empty words...meaningless."

"I want nothing from you, _Mudblood_." He spat bitterly.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Tucking stray strands of hair the light breeze had blown out of place behind her ears, she ventured a little closer to the bench.

'You do not scare me, Malfoy.' She thought determined.

"I don't use the word hate loosely, but Lucius is a man I truly hate. If anything, I'm more relieved than satisfied at knowing he's receiving the kiss."

"And why is that?" Malfoy snarled, he threw a brief glance at her. "Let me guess, because he called you a Mudblood? Can't stand being told the blood running in your veins is absolutely filthy, can you?"

Hermione swiftly closed the distance between them. She stood directly in front of him. Grabbing a good amount of his hair, Hermione forced his head up.

Hazel and silver met.

His eyes overflowing with intense resentment.

"I'm **not **afraid to hurt you." Malfoy seized her thin wrist. "Let. Go." He hissed maliciously.

In response she tightened her grip.

"Relieved in knowing he cannot influence you so severely anymore." She forcefully released him from her hold, jerking her wrist out of his grasp. Creating some distance between them, Hermione backed away a little, unfazed by his cruel glare.

"Fuck off." He demanded coarsely.

"You were taught your father's beliefs once you were able to comprehend words, Malfoy. Words like Mudblood. Blood traitor. Half-blood. Most especially _pureblood_. Words that wouldn't matter to you unless you were _told_ it mattered."

He scoffed in response. "So you're implying I'm just a mindless idiot?"

"Implying? No. I'm _telling_ you. You're a mindless idiot!" Hermione sighed. "Look, it's no secret you're _very_ intelligent-- academically speaking, no doubt. But all of that is forgotten when your father's words leave your mouth. If you think you sound intelligent saying Mudblood, you're sadly mistaken."

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Granger." She heard him say, his growl _almost _faltering with uncertainty.

"Why? Because the _bullshit_ doesn't sound like _shit_ to you anymore, does it? You're finally beginning to understand that your father has spent years mercilessly corrupting your mind."

Malfoy stood from his seat abruptly, unconsciously smoothing the wrinkles on his school robes. He took a threatening step towards her, Hermione did not flinch.

"Do you really think I give a fuck about my _corrupted mind_ right now? I'm not as mindless as you think, Granger... I KNOW the corruption is my father's doing… but what will me hating him for it accomplish? In a matter of weeks, maybe even days.. he'll be gone. Once he's received that kiss, he's dead to me. DEAD. He's my father. Before _anything_ else, he is my father."

End Flashback.

"I thought it was just the simple truth of knowing your father would be.. gone-- that had changed you. News of him receiving the kiss may have shoved you into considering a **change **but Granger's words really got you thinking. Her words always have that irritating ability to make you think." Zabini said quietly.

"I tell you mate, I really tried to disregard _everything _she had said to me. But no one has ever spoken to me the way she had, no one in Hogwarts at least. Reckless abandon. Finding myself simply recalling our conversation absolutely maddened me while I walked to Slytherin Common Room that night. I didn't understand why I was wasting my time analyzing her words... why was I realizing the truth she spoke--

"My mother arrived the next morning, and as you know I left Hogwarts to be with her at the manor for a couple of weeks. Weeks of reflecting on my childhood, my years at Hogwarts, my sixteen years with my father--

"Unfortunately, I returned to a massive amount of schoolwork. I received an owl immediately upon my arrival. Granger offered to provide a quick overview of what I had missed..."

Flashback:

Shielding the bothersome sunlight from his eyes, Malfoy headed for a particular tree beside the lake. Students were scattered about the school grounds, enjoying the wonderful weather. He preferred to be inside, asleep in his own bed on a Saturday morning such as this but his tutor had insisted they meet around eleven. He found her leant against a tree, legs outstretched… lost in deep thought, staring at the lake. He had also noticed there were no books nor piles of notes accompanying her.

Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Granger." He greeted, sounding a _little _civil.

"Malfoy." She turned her head, looking him over swiftly. "You don't look so ill anymore."

The dark circles below his eyes, which were **still **present before he had left for Malfoy Manor, had vanished. He _finally _obtained the sleep he so desperately needed while he was away.

"Thanks for noticing." He drawled sarcastically.

"Are you going to plop down beside me or is the ground too filthy for a Pureblood such as yourself? Or maybe it's me that's too filthy?" Hermione gave a mocking shudder.

'So her _bravery _the night before I left was not temporary…' He said to himself, somewhat-- impressed?

Without denying or confirming her claim, Malfoy walked past her towards the lake, his back to Hermione.

"I've decided I'd rather not be thought of as a mindless idiot. I have a mind of my own."

Hermione understood at once what he meant. She almost didn't know how to respond.

"That's... good, Malfoy." Hermione said, smiling to herself.

End Flashback

"Always trust in Draco Malfoy to complicate the simplest of words. Instead of 'I don't want to be a prat anymore' it's 'I'd rather not be thought of as a mindless idiot'. But only a mindless idiot would admit to being a prat." Zabini gave a slight grin. "That Saturday morning, you became Draco Malfoy: 'good guy' extraordinaire. Truthfully, I assumed the occasion I heard 'good guy' and Draco Malfoy in the same sentence, I thought it would be along the lines of: Draco Malfoy _killed _a good guy. Not: Draco Malfoy _is_ a good guy!"

"Good guy? Zabini, I may not be siding with Voldemort, but in no means does that label me a _good guy_. My beliefs have changed, yes. But I'm still the same asshole I've always been. Still hardheaded, still saying stupid shit to anger Hermione...

"Beliefs aside, nothing has changed." Malfoy declared firmly.

"We've been friends for seventeen years now, do you honestly believe I didn't know that already? Excluding myself, no one has realized a change in you. You've made sure to conceal the conversion you've made very well. To others you're still the arrogant, narrow-minded prat they've grown to hate throughout their years attending Hogwarts. Still arrogant, just not so narrow-minded anymore."

The two childhood friends smirked at one another as a comfortable silence came upon them.

"So…the next portion of your account is about the friendship flourishing, I presume?"

* * *

_Revised 03.02.08_

WhOoT! What did you think? Draco was a little out of character but like I said, I'm not really worried about that…

Please **review**! _Review_. **Review**. Review. **_REVIEW _**!

Next chapter, more flashbacks! Hermione _may _take part in the storytelling as well!

Kristine.


	4. Polka Dots

Thank you all again for your positive feedback and suggestions!

Reviews make me very happy!

Keep reviewing, please?

Yea, I wrote everything up there like, July. Hahaha- it's DECEMBER now! Junior year is kicking my ass, so please be patient with me. I try to find time for my fanfics, but sometimes it really is hard.

But oh dear, 92 reviews for chapter three! Wow guys. I love all of you, it is really encouraging when my fans review! Keep it up! Please? Hehe.

All right, all right, I'll stop rambling…

Here it goes!

**Polka Dots**

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

He looked at the ceiling vaguely before answering his friend.

"Cormac McLaggan assisted in my realizing Hermione as a woman, an _attractive_ woman, rather than _just _my academic adversary. The fool assisted in establishing a solid foundation for our friendship as well…"

**Flashback:**

Eleven.

In the late evening.

Malfoy, unable to endure the Slytherin Common Room for one reason or another, announced that he would be patrolling the corridors. Being a Prefect, he _did _have an obligation to do so. Though he had no intention of making any rounds, he had an excuse prepared for any professor who questioned his intentions so late in the evening. And if he did so happen to spot any students out of bed past curfew, more amusement for him.

And there was more than amusement waiting to be caught _in _the lake, and no- it's not the Giant Squid.

**000**

Malfoy's intention was to do a few laps in the lake, but as he neared his destination, he was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue.

"I'm better off in bed rather than tiring myself even more with a meaningless swim." He muttered, already heading back to the castle. But he stopped dead-- his fatigue overwhelmed him _too_ suddenly.

"Relax, I heard nothing. Come here…" Came a low _male_ voice.

Malfoy smirked.

'Of course, the old Exhaustion Charm. Affects anyone approaching (the caster and his company) twenty feet or less. This one actually thought this through. He figured someone would decide to take an evening swim, but the charm would cause anyone with the hope of a swim to return to their dorms after feeling a sudden wave of extreme exhaustion. Hmm, this idiot seems to really want to shag. In the lake. And I'm going to enjoy ruining this for him.'

Still smirking (and muttering the counter spell), the Slytherin started for the lake.

"Cormac, someone was talking. I _know _I heard someone talking…"

And for the second time that evening Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"Granger!" He choked out, much too loudly.

"All right, perhaps you were right, Hermione. Who's there! "

Malfoy pushed past some shrubbery only to find himself near the lake's edge, facing Gryffindor's Cormac McLaggan (clad in simple blue swim trunks).

"A very good evening to you McLaggan. I assume you are aware that you and your lady friend, who is also my prefect comrade, are out past curfew." His eyes lazily shifted to the indiscreet ripples in the lake. "I heard you already, Granger. There's no sense in hiding yourself."

Abruptly, Hermione emerged from the green-blue lake water, sputtering. She staggered onto the dry land, coughing loudly and visibly shivering.

Hermione's shivering prompted Malfoy to study her attire-- or lack thereof. She was clad in a classically simple pink bikini adorned with white polka dots.

Malfoy maintained an indifferent reaction to seeing his "prefect comrade" completely indecent. Being a gentleman, he'd already unclasped his cloak in order to offer it to the lady. But not before taking in the wondrous view great Merlin had offered to him. Feigning struggle to remove his cloak, Malfoy's eyes caressed her amazing legs and her smooth, toned stomach--unforeseen curves nearly produced a growl of lust from the Slytherin. He never expected Hermione Granger to have such an affect on him. But he also never expected the self-proclaimed bookworm to possess a body like _that._

"Why wear the swimsuit, Granger? Might as well have gone completely nude. Then there wouldn't be any irritating strings for McLaggan to untie. Not to mention the task itself may have been too difficult for Cormac, isn't that right mate?" Malfoy tossed the cologne-scented Slytherin cloak to Hermione.

Hermione muttered a 'thank you' before clutching McLaggan's strong forearm. He was clearly upset by Malfoy's comment, but Hermione stopped him from 'expressing' how upset he was to Malfoy.

"Let me do the talking, not your fists. I'll just see you in the morning."

McLaggan eyed Malfoy skeptically before nodding.

"G'night." He leaned down (being 6'4) to her, brushing his lips against hers. Grabbing a pile of robes on the ground, McLaggan cast one last threatening glance at Malfoy over his shoulder before heading back to the castle.

Timidly, Hermione seized the robes remaining on the ground, tightening her grasp on his cloak.

"It wasn't what it looked like-"

"You know, it's all right if it _was _what it looked like, Granger." Malfoy scoffed, mocking her chaste demeanor.

"Fabulous! The next time Cormac and I find ourselves in such a compromising situation, perhaps it _will _be what it looked like. I've obtained your approval, nothing holds me back now." She replied sarcastically.

He smirked at her wit, she resisted the small smile threatening to surface.

**End Flashback**

"I'm wagering you did not enjoy retelling that tidbit of the courtship, huh mate? Well excluding your sighting of a scantily clad Granger--" Zabini was slightly uncomfortable, unbeknownst to his best mate. With a struggle, he had eventually surrendered to mentally viewing a bikini clad Hermione-- damn Malfoy and his vividly descriptive nature!

"Oh no, I took much pleasure in reliving the evening I had caught my girlfriend on a late night venture with her then boyfriend McLaggan." The Head Boy drawled dryly.

**000**

"_Oh no, I took much pleasure in reliving the evening I had caught my **girlfriend **on a late night venture with her then boyfriend McLaggan." _

'Girlfriend, it rolls off his tongue so eloquently, so nicely.' Hermione smiled at her own thoughts, but mainly at Malfoy's reference to her as his girlfriend. Which, she was. But having to keep their relationship unknown did not give much opportunity for either of them to refer to one another as their other half.

"Miss Granger?" A stern voice withdrew the Head Girl from her thoughts.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione was at once on her feet, startled.

"It's taken you an awfully long time to check up on Mr. Malfoy's condition. How did you manage to end up seated outside the Infirmary?" The aging woman gazed at her top student through her spectacles.

"I-- uh, felt a little lightheaded. The scents in there are overwhelming Professor."

"Are you feeling any better now that you've rested a bit?" McGonagall questioned, without the usual edge laced in her tone.

"I'm feeling a lot better than Malfoy is, Professor. Did you come to see him?" Hermione sighted Harry standing several feet away.

"I certainly did, Potter as well. He's got an apology for our injured Head Boy. Come along, Potter. Visiting hours expire in thirty minutes. Can you handle just a few minutes inside?" The deputy headmistress asked the Head Girl over her shoulder, pushing the doors of the Infirmary open.

Biting her lip, Hermione followed. "I suppose I can…" She resisted a groan of dread, unsure if Malfoy was still upset.

**000**

"All right, we've wasted enough time discussing that piece of shit, go on-" Zabini was saying as McGonagall entered the hospital wing.

"Good evening Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini."

Ceasing their discussion, the two young men gave their professor brief but respectful nods-- acknowledging her presence and greeting.

Malfoy then sneered at the sight of Harry lazily striding into the Infirmary, but his harsh expression discreetly softened at Hermione's unexpected appearance.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Zabini?" Came Harry's taunt.

"I'll tell you once you've kissed my a-"

"That will be enough Mr. Zabini. Potter, you came here with one purpose. And that wasn't to cause a row with Zabini or Malfoy." McGonagall sent Harry a withering glare before continuing. "Now, Mr. Malfoy- how are you feeling?"

"Having two ribs currently re-growing is terribly excruciating, Professor. Thank you for asking." The reply was directed to McGonagall but Malfoy's eyes were clearly addressing the Boy Who Lived.

"The amount of pain will lessen, Draco, I assure you. If you'll excuse me, I simply came to make certain you were all right. Potter, do as you were told. We are not through yet, I will be in my office waiting. Behave, gentlemen."

With her robes billowing behind her, McGonagall made a quick exit.

Hermione, the unofficial chaperone, seated herself on the hospital bed furthest from the three young men, avoiding any possible confrontations.

"When I'm in the hospital wing, my bedside tables are always overflowing with 'get-well' gifts. Yours are looking miserably vacant. Not even your girlfriend came to see you?" Harry stood at the foot of Malfoy's bed, eyeing him defiantly.

She felt _his_ stormy eyes sweep over her swiftly before returning his attention to the bane of his existence.

"Actually, my girlfriend was just here." Hermione did not need to see his handsome face to know his smirk was currently gracing his lips.

"Well obviously after she realized you'd be…inactive this evening, she at once hopped into a broom closet with a fifth year. I spotted them exiting one near the Great Hall, looking rather frazzled."

Hermione was not the 'girlfriend' being spoken of, she knew this. But Harry's unprovoked (rude) behavior was wearing on the Head Girl's already shaky patience with him.

"Harry Potter! You came here with ONE purpose, and ONE purpose only. For Merlin's sake you've broken two of his ribs, Harry! If anything you should be the one taking _his _verbal abuse! Malfoy can still press charges! And you know what? He probably will now that you've made a complete ass out of yourself."

Harry was dumbstruck and Zabini found it absolutely hilarious. His 'stifled' snickers maddeningly audible.

"H-How can you be defending HIM?" The Boy who Lived snarled.

She took small, dangerous steps towards her best friend of seven years.

"When you broke his ribs, when you went ballistic because he caught the snitch, not you; when you let losing a game, the first game of the season--_ which essentially means NOTHING--_" Hermione furiously emphasized, continuing her slow pursuit. "--allow you to find good cause in hurting another student … You destroyed the reputation that made me, and our entire HOUSE proud to be Gryffindors! Although no one's going to hate us as a whole, surely we've lost some respect-- the fallout of one _boy's _actions. But you're Harry Potter. Even if you nearly killed a student over a flying ball with wings, you're still the hero. You've escape with everyone's respect intact. I am simply defending myself, Harry. NOT him." Giving a frustrated huff, she turned her back to him (Malfoy and Zabini as well), tapping her foot impatiently. "Just make your apology."

Harry eyed the injured Head Boy warily. "Um, look Malfoy, I'm sorry--" He began, but Malfoy cut him off.

"Done- you've said what you were brought here to say. Get out."

A tense silence blanketed the Infirmary.

"_Gladly_." Harry replied through gritted teeth.

She heard his footsteps nearing her, the scent she grew so accustomed to all the years of their friendship annouced his presence; without having to look she knew Harry stood beside her.

"I believe Scarhead desires your company, Mudblood." He drawled, not even attempting to withhold his revulsion-- the mere suggestion sickened him.

"In other words: **we **don't desire your company... so go with someone who direly needs it." Zabini finished.

"Come on, Hermione, we're not welcome here." Harry hissed, almost urgently.

Hermione brushed the loose curls falling over her hazel eyes aside, refusing to meet the emerald eyes desperately fixed on her.

"I prefer to be here, unwanted, rather than leave with you. I'm too upset." She sent him a very brief (impatient) glance. "Go on, McGonagall is waiting."

"Fine. Bye." Harry stormed out, frustrated with his best friend's cold behavior.

"You two found that hilarious." Hermione spat with resentment, still her back faced the Slytherins.

Zabini shook his head vigorously at his best mate, knowing he'd bite back with his fierce sarcasm.

But, as expected, Malfoy remained himself.

"Oh, you're meaning to tell me bitching Potter out wasn't done for our amusement?"

"After I've risked a friendship you relentlessly voiced your disapproval of, after every one of your inane jealous fits-- you find my justifying the feelings you doubt amusing?" Hermione elegantly twirled to meet his eyes. "You insult me for being unclear of whose side I sit on. Would you have rather had me strip down to my knickers to show Harry who I really cheer for at the matches, Draco? Blaise, perhaps you need additional convincing--"

"Ahem-- I'm quite confident it was my company Potter desired. Um-I should go." Zabini left as quickly as he had spoken.

**000**

The Head Boy had drifted into an uneasy sleep, after unwilling surrendering the battle he had been fighting against his extreme fatigue. Meaning he also unwillingly surrendered the endless battle he and his girlfriend were having up until the moment he accepted his loss to fatigue.

He was awoken by a cool hand sweeping over his (pale) sweat drenched forehead.

Malfoy's stunning silver eyes hid beneath squinted eyelids, seeking the source of the coolness relieving his forehead of its intense heat.

Concern; her hazel eyes always gave her away.

"Hermione?" His voice was severely hoarse.

She simply nodded in response, suddenly handing him a tall glass of water, frigid to the touch.

"Your fever is dangerously high." Hermione whispered, watching him desperately swallow the water in three gulps.

"… Madame Pomfrey stepped out for a bit, shortly after you fell asleep. She asked me to watch over you. Your breathing sounded slightly irregular-- so I came to your side." Smoothing her loose curls, Hermione bit her lip, knowing she had indirectly initiated a continuation to their discussion.

"…I'm… not feeling well… enough to… continue our row--" His voiced softened, faded with each word he spoke.

Then he lost consciousness.

* * *

_Revised 03.04.08_

Uh-oh, what happened to Draco?

So, I've introduced a boyfriend into the flashbacks, which will continue in the next chapter… As you noticed I took a little break from the flashbacks in this chapter, because I felt that you, the readers, and myself- needed a break from them. Lol.What did you think? Still a little out of character buuut oooh welllllllll. There may be a little fluff in the next chapter, does anyone object to that?

Please review. They motivate me greatly.

Kristine.


	5. Stupid Cupid

I don't want my writing overlooked because of grammatical errors. I am now looking for a (SKILLED) beta-- any suggestions? Volunteers?

Thanks to all who reviewed. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. (Smiles)

This chapter is not long. And I'm sorry. But hey, at least I updated!

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

She was torn. Hermione couldn't possibly miss her morning classes to be with him. But Malfoy needed her-- she _needed_ to be with him.

Advanced Potions began in mere minutes--

"Madame Pomfrey!" He smashed a determined fist against the closed doors of the Infirmary.

"Blaise?"

His guarded eyes eased at the sight of his best mate's girlfriend.

An irritated chuckle escaped his lip. "That woman is unbelievable. We're not to see him until classes have concluded for the day."

"Marvelous…" Hermione muttered. "I'd be a mess if I were to attend my classes.."

He grunted in response.

"I've obtained three hours of sleep, so my being in class is rather pointless. The lovely Madame Pomfrey ended my three hour slumber to roughly shove me out of her Infirmary demanding that I attend my lessons. Oh, and while she was shutting the doors she assured me Draco would be fine… but how can I take comfort in her words? If I took comfort in her words last night then I would have obtained more than just three hours of sleep..." Zabini's voice was softened by exhaustion. His fatigue also seemed to numb his natural liveliness. "Listen to me, I sound like his girlfriend!"

"He's still unconscious?" Laughing weakly, she slid onto a seat on the cold stone floor (beside the Infirmary doors) once again.

Sighing, Zabini seated himself beside her.

"Not quite. One of his broken ribs punctured his left lung and went undetected. The lung was bleeding internally.. he lost a damaging amount of blood. So he passed out, understandably. The internal bleeding was easily discovered… but even with magic the procedures used to heal him were lengthy.. I fell asleep before she was through. And I was out of the Infirmary before I could steal a glance at him."

"I was sent away before you even returned from dinner… I've obtained an astounding _twenty _minutes of sleep! Perhaps less…" Hermione laced her fingers into her hair, eyeing the closed Infirmary doors.

"The less you sleep the more you care, eh?" Zabini teased, giving the Head Girl an exaggerated wink.

Hermione laughed softly at his childish behavior.

A comfortable silence followed.

"…tell me, Granger, why did Malfoy cast McLaggan as the cupid of the courtship?"

Zabini heard her release another soft laugh. "I suppose Cormac _was _the unconventional cupid of our courtship… and his stupidity was the arrow…"

**Flashback:**

_(This occurs three months after the previous flashback)_

She couldn't recall just _how_ she arrived at the library; the table they've used every night for months seemed to suddenly appear before her. Occupying a seat at the table was someone whom she had formed a very, very, very tentative friendship with. Cooperation led to civility, which progressed to friendliness. Tutorials became just studying together rather than an obligation-- no longer strangers, they entered a very tentative friendship.

Hermione brutally bit her lip at the sight of him, not knowing whether to scream or surrender to the tears she'd been furiously resisting..

Head cradled in his toned arms, Malfoy clearly fell asleep waiting for her arrival. She was thirty minutes late for their_ study session_--

Ruthlessly, she kicked a leg of the table.

"Shit!" He groaned. The malicious force of her kick quickly jerked Malfoy from his slumber. He eyed Hermione wearily, stretching his drowsiness away.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"You _knew_!" Hermione hissed bitterly.

"Knew of what? Of the delay of our session? I did _not_ know, Granger. Otherwise I would have left--"

Hermione **impatiently **cut him off-

"--tell me Draco, do you know what the _Hog_ is?"

She heard him chuckle resentfully, it was almost comforting.

The table then suffered another enraged blow, Malfoy's fist collided with the wood.

"McLaggan told you." Malfoy growled.

"He gave me this--" Hermione swallowed her sob back, shoving a photograph into his hands. "--informing me he no longer needed it."

Malfoy indifferently studied the photo.

"And before I could display my utter revulsion, do you know what Cormac said to me, Draco? He said 'the _Hog_ is a good friend, but Malfoy is a better one'." She scoffed bitterly. "And to think I sincerely believed you changed."

He stood from his seat, slowly approaching her.

"Do you think that fool meant I was a better friend to _him_? I was better to him profit wise. The _Hog_ requested a photograph of the virginal Hermione Granger inadequately clad. Anyone able to produce the photograph would receive one hundred fifty galleons."

Her lips quivered, tears began to blur her vision. 'How could he?'

"The _Hog_ is Hogwart's own version of the ever controversial PlayWizard, I'm sure you've realized that. Although unlike PlayWizard, the photographs in the _Hog_ aren't as satisfying… not as nude. But one feature makes the _Hog _unique from PlayWizard. They take requests. A request costs one galleon. The more requests, the more money the photograph will cost. Your picture has been the most requested for the last three years. And Cormac McLaggan finally obtained it.

"I overheard a conversation between the editor and one of the founders, both will remain nameless, while I was patrolling the halls about a month after I caught you and McLaggan together. 'Undoubtedly she and her tiny polka dotted bikini are both making the cover of our February issue'…"

Her eyes quickly met his.

"It's almost April, if I was on the cover... why hasn't anyone been taunting me? Why wasn't there an uproar? It seems the _Hog _is a very well kept secret but if my picture was so anticipated I know even the female population of Hogwarts would have seen it--"

'... but Malfoy is a better one.' Hermione suddenly understood.

"You and your 'tiny polka dotted bikini' didn't make the cover because I offered McLaggan double what the _Hog _was offering." Malfoy spat through gritted teeth. "I paid three hundred galleons for your pride, Granger. How much do I have to pay to salvage what's left of mine?"

**End Flashback**

Zabini exhaled slowly, shaking his head in utter disbelief.

"Th-Three hundred galleons?"

"Believe me, I couldn't accept it as true for ages. The tutorials were suspended due to a bruised Malfoy ego. He was avoiding me apparently. It was absolutely ridiculous. When I received the news of Mr. Malfoy's suicide, I knew all hopes of continuing were lost. It upset me that I had to read the Daily Prophet about his father's death, why hadn't he told me himself? Because even at a time of mourning he continued to regard his ego... I suppose he didn't want to display anymore _weakness_ to me…"

**Flashback**

She neared the Quidditch field, determined.

A prefects meeting had just adjourned and he made no appearance. As she walked the corridors of Hogwarts, en route to her Common Room, a group of fifth year Slyrtherins were sympathetically whispering about a grieving Malfoy on the Quidditch stands. Alone.

_"He canceled every Quidditch practice until further notice you know! Their beater told me he forcibly threw his broom down when the other beater told Malfoy that his father was a good man. Then he told them to leave him be. Can you believe it! Poor Draco…"_

"Poor Draco." Hermione muttered sarcastically as she searched the empty pitch. The sun was just setting, Hermione had some trouble finding him. But she did eventually. He sat where professors and parents usually sat, the seats towering over the areas on the ground where students stood.

Malfoy was horribly disheveled, a striking contrast to his crisp Quidditch robes. His pale skin was tinted pink and his eyes slightly swollen. Just slightly, but Hermione noticed immediately.

At the sight of her, he held his hand up, silently asking her to stop. Stop walking, just stop…

"He killed himself," He eyed her resentfully. His glare was not at all accusatory but just resentful, knowing how she felt about Lucius. "I suppose you're taking great pleasure in seeing me like this--" Malfoy snarled, a hiccup shortly following. Confirming Hermione's belief that he indeed had cried.

She sighed, eyeing the seat beside him, silently requesting his consent to sit. He merely shrugged in response.

"I could use your idiocy as an excuse to unload my frustration on you. Frustration that you, might I add, are the source of. But I won't. Because right now you need to know something."

His uncertain eyes met hers.

"Which is what, Granger?"

"I don't know how long it will take you to comprehend that I'm your friend, but I _telling _you I am. When you do something as gallant as paying 300 galleons for a _friend_, you shouldn't be ashamed--" She shifted a bit closer to him. "--and when a friend finds you mourning the loss of your father, you shouldn't be ashamed eith-"

--Malfoy suddenly stood, gripping the railings of the stands--

He vomited.

"Was what I said _that_ nauseating?" She asked a bit exasperated, walking to his side. Only slightly concerned, thinking he was simply being an ass with his antics.

His head turned so swiftly...

Too caught up in preparing a retort, Malfoy failed to realize how close Hermione was…

And she _uniquely _realized his vomiting was not contrived.

**End Flashback**

"Oh Merlin, you poor, poor Muggle-born. To be kissed-- so roughly-- might I sympathetically add, right after one has vomited--" Zabini shuddered.

"I can admit our first kiss wasn't at all romantic, and the smell of his vomit alone was dreadful. You wouldn't be able to fathom the taste Blaise."

"Trust me Granger, I really do not care to."

"I laid in bed that evening, feeling completely deranged because although my lips tasted as if they were saturated with his vomit, I couldn't stop licking them. Because every time I did, it was as if he had kissed me all over again..."

* * *

_Revised 03.04.08_

Short, I know. And it took like a million months to finish and I'm sorry. I will not apologize for going on vacation and having summer classes but I will apologize for the long wait… I had a writer's block the size of Africa!

Please review and I promise I will really try to update more often.

I love you all.

Review, please?


	6. Three Beans

Thank you all for the positive feedback! I love reviews. And I love my readers!

Keep reviewing, okay?

Oh yeah, the flashbacks have days, weeks, sometimes months pass between them. So they're not exactly one after another, get it? The flashbacks only show important events in their relationship. The flashbacks happen in order though.

Here I go!

**Three Beans**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Zabini childishly plugged his ears, gagging loudly.

"I am not _hearing_ this! That kiss defines the relationship perfectly, Granger. FUCKED UP!"

A strained chuckle diverted Hermione's attention from giggling wildly to the Infirmary doors.

"Draco?"

The doorframe supported him, clearly Malfoy was too weak to stand on his own.

"Has Madame Pomfrey gone completely mad? How could she let you out of bed with your condition so unstable!" She was quickly on her feet, with the sole intention of assisting him back to his hospital bed.

"St. Mungo's direly needed her assistance. She rushed into her office and has yet to re-emerge… Shit, be gentle, Granger." Hermione nearly collapsed as he placed most of his weight on her, although she took a moment to disregard her shaking knees to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I _hated_ sleeping alone, Draco." She whispered rather suggestively, taking advantage of their time "alone" (Zabini, ears still plugged, hadn't noticed she was no longer beside him).

Smirking, Malfoy tightened his hold around her shoulder in response, holding her closer as they very slowly walked back to his bed.

"Don't tempt me. Merlin, don't tempt me while these beds surround us." He pleaded hoarsely.

Zabini's gagging, faint but still audible, abruptly stopped-

"Granger…? OY!" They heard his footsteps quickly approaching them…

Zabini slung his best friend's left arm around his shoulder. Hermione gratefully smiled at him, feeling Malfoy's weight on her lessen dramatically.

"Running to your boyfriend was not necessary, Granger! Snitch!" He then promptly stuck his tongue out. Turning to Malfoy, he quickly add: "She really didn't get you out of bed because of what I had said, did she?"

Malfoy laid back on his bed, scoffing.

"First of all, Granger isn't the damsel in fucking distress type. You know as well as I that she can take care of herself. Second, why would she get me out of bed to tell me what we both already know, Zabini? I _know_ our relationship is fucked up."

Chuckling, Zabini settled himself on a bed.

And she remained standing…

…Hermione stood so irritatingly close to his bed, she was leaning against the bed rather than sitting. He wrapped a loose, weak arm around her waist, blatantly beckoning her to sit beside him.

Resisting a smile, she bit her cheek, complying to his unspoken request.

A comfortable silence ensued… for about ten seconds.

**000**

Malfoy's arm around her waist stiffened, his eyes darted to the open Infirmary doors.

Footsteps.

The injured Slytherin listened, intently, as did his best mate…

"You're fucked, Malfoy. I know you recognize those footsteps. Expensive stilettos with a pureblooded swagger-" Zabini eyed the couple, appalled. They remained as they were.

The footsteps slowed, nearing…

"Malfoy! What the hell are you pulling here?" He frantically muttered--

...Pansy Parkinson then appeared at the threshold, smirking.

"Uh.." He stood, frozen for a moment.

"Pans!" Zabini ran to her, looking over his shoulder; Malfoy still held her. Gulping, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "G-Granger had to see him... Heads nonsense and…Uh- Drake.. He's delusional right now. Yes, delusional! You know, from the..the medication! He.. He thinks Hermi- Granger is... YOU! See… it explains why he's holding her.. " He finished weakly, watching her roll her eyes in response.

Pansy released herself from his hold before pushing him back into the Infirmary. She too entered, closing (and locking) the doors, she leaned against them- laughing.

"Zabini, that was incredibly pathetic. I now understand why you two were so hesitant to tell him."

His mouth nearly touched the floor. "She-she..._knows_?" Zabini sputtered.

"Aw, he thought he was the first and only." Pansy placed a hand over her chest, pouting. "Sorry, the first and only was **me**.. Until today, I suppose." The pout dissolved into another smirk.

"Until last afternoon, you mean." He replied through gritted teeth. Zabini then eyed the Head Boy lethally. "You're my best mate, I've known you my _entire_ life. But your ex is informed of the first serious, might I add forbidden, relationship you've had before I am?"

Rolling her eyes, again, Pansy approached Hermione and Malfoy.

"How are you?" Her eyes skimmed over his chest, having heard his ribs were broken.

Malfoy shrugged indifferently.

"Granger, you look dreadful. Have you gotten any sleep?" Pansy asked softly, seating herself on a chair beside Malfoy's bed.

"EXCUSE ME, Pans. But I think my _friend_ was in the process of explaining why I wasn't the first to know about the relationship."

"Merlin, you are honestly a child sometimes."

"Shut up. Clearly you take pride in being the first to know. So…Um… Shut. Up."

"It killed Draco that he couldn't tell you. He'll never admit it, but he hated keeping it from you." Hermione explained gently. "But I asked him to. From the stories he'd told me about your childhood, I gathered you weren't exceptional at covering for yourself and Draco when trouble found you two. I presented that fact to him and he decided to postpone telling you."

"However you caught me flagrantly checking Granger out with noticeable…lust… in the Great Hall during breakfast before the match. I had the overwhelming urge to say 'I fucked Granger last night' as my explanation to why I couldn't keep my eyes off her. But I couldn't."

Hermione was (understandably) blushing.

"You looked amazing when you entered the Great Hall and you were incredible the night before." He added in a low, husky whisper only audible to her.

"Maybe we'll have that exchange the next time we dine together…" Zabini replied quietly with a grin. "You'll have to engage in some _activities _the evening prior for the exchange to take place in the morning though." He smirked at Hermione teasingly.

"Wait. You two were having breakfast. Granger enters, Drake drools and unintentionally reveals that he fucked her?" Pansy eyed Malfoy for confirmation.

"No. I didn't even know they were fucking--"

"Can further discussion of my sex life be excluded from this conversation?" Hermione mumbled, her cheeks displaying her house color, a deep scarlet.

Malfoy eased himself up to a sitting position, resting his back against the wall behind his hospital bed. His arm left her waist to wrap loosely around her shoulder, just as he had done earlier. Hermione then placed her legs on the bed, entangling hers with his.

Pansy and Zabini observed the pair, somewhat intrigued.

"Our previous position was extremely uncomfortable," He snarled. The blond then eyed his friend expectantly. "Go on, tell her what happened."

"He's been re-telling their courtship. At breakfast, he was eyeing her with 'lust', yes, _lust_…" He raised an eyebrow at this, implying that what he saw was a little bit more than lust. "I said she was gorgeous to provoke him, gauging his reaction. I saw panic. He lied to me, blatantly. Then I saw defeat. He got injured at the game. I stayed here with him last night, and we had the talk he promised before the match. I'm about to learn what occurred after their _revolting _first kiss."

"_Oh_. So if I had said 'Draco looks devastatingly handsome today', I would have received more than 'we're together, don't tell anyone'?" She stood, holding a hand up- wordlessly asking Malfoy and Hermione to keep quiet. "I had to catch you two fucking to be considered _worthy_ of knowing." Pansy pointed at the Head Girl resentfully. "I know you and Zabini weren't even speaking two days ago, but it's only taken you a day and an exposed relationship to become his friend. How long did it take us, Granger? The BULK of the summer holidays!"

"Blaise isn't my ex, Pans." Malfoy hissed.

Zabini sighed loudly. "Thanks for clearing that up, Drake." He eyed Pansy. "Does it matter how and when we were informed? We know. And obviously they trust us because they haven't used Obliviate on us... I think."

Pansy chuckled. "They may have to use it on you, after witnessing 'uh…delusional.. yes!'" She then shrugged. "I suppose I wouldn't favor having your memory obliviated… I'll now have someone to bitch to about how ridiculous their arguments are."

"I've witnessed a few already. Awkward."

"Speaking of awkward," Hermione began loudly, not liking where their conversation was going. "Parkinson- why are you here? Don't you have class?"

She sat on the edge of Malfoy's bed, smirking.

"If worry were a disease, Potter and Weasley would be dead right now. Potter was going on and on about how strangely you were acting last night. He's convinced you're under the Imperius Curse."

The Head Girl groaned. "That's my cue, I've got to attend my afternoon classes before Harry and Ron wreak havoc." She told Malfoy softly.

Zabini caught her eye, he discreetly nodded his head to the Infirmary doors, knowing Malfoy and Hermione wanted privacy.

"We'll see you in Potions, Granger." Pansy called over her shoulder as she left with the raven-haired Slytherin.

**000**

They walked in silence. Their steps were out of sync; it drove Zabini insane.

"You caught them having sex. Would you care to elaborate?"

She stared at the stone floors, biting her lip.

"When I caught them having sex, that wasn't the first time I saw them together. It's the first time they know of, yes. But not the first time I saw them…"

**Flashback:**

**( a month after the "kiss" )**

"You look amazing, Draco." She eyed his mirror image as he adjusted the collar of his emerald dress robe.

"Pans…" Malfoy began, turning to speak to her properly. She twirled, displaying her extravagant dress robe for him. Her smile faltered- he didn't seem to notice.

"My seventeenth birthday is going to be extraordinary, for all of us. Thanks to you." He smiled slightly. Malfoy stepped closer to her, he leaned down…

Eyes fluttering shut, she stood on the tips of her expensive heels- lips a little a pursed.

His lips grazed her forehead. And Pansy waited for his lips to move down onto hers…

She opened her eyes, Malfoy had returned to the mirror, tousling his hair with a smirk.

Pansy sighed sadly. He seldom kissed her lips anymore.

"I've got last minute preparations waiting for me down in the Great Hall. Be there by six, okay?"

**Great Hall**

Pansy surveyed the Great Hall enthusiastically. On the east and west walls hung enormous Malfoy Family Crests, the north wall (where the professors normally sat) was adorned with two terrifying (massive) anacondas charmed to form a one and a seven. She knew he'd love the north wall, he adored snakes.

At the center of the Great Hall, a wide cylindrical glass stage was erected, inside thousands of snakes hissed and slithered. A variety of his preferred bands, including the Weird Sisters, were performing on the 'snake stage'.

Around the 'snake stage' was a designated dance floor, and surrounding the dance floor were tables with snake-skin table cloths. Pansy also decided to have luxurious armchairs and sofas scattered about the hall, to give more of a causal ambiance. Rectangular tables were placed against the east and west walls for gifts and refreshments.

It was an energized March night; Saturday. Pansy approached Headmaster Dumbledore about Malfoy's seventeenth birthday celebration on February, of her fifth year. January of fifth year she became his girlfriend, and just as she suspected, a year and one month later he was still hers. Now, a year and one month later, she was hosting the year's most anticipated event, for her boyfriend.

Her smile faltered for the second time that evening. 'He's still my boyfriend, right?'

She'd invited **all** fifth years, sixth years, and seventh years; upon the request of Malfoy.

"_Everyone, Draco? Even Potter and his group?"_

"_Everyone, Pansy. **Mudbloods**, half-bloods, purebloods- everyone."_

**(8:30 pm)**

At precisely six, Malfoy made a sensational entrance, looking devastatingly handsome- his deep emerald dress robes billowing behind him as he smirked at the crowd.

Currently, he sat beside Pansy on a black velvet sofa, watching couples dance to the seductive beat of the song.

Pansy wanted to dance, with him, but he was so aloof. His eyes occasionally drifted to the entrance of the Great Hall.

'Is he waiting for someone?'

She took a sip of her drink as she noticed him glance at the entrance again. But unlike the times before, his eyes did not return to the dance floor.

Pansy choked on her butterbeer when her eyes met Hermione Granger standing, rather insecurely (and looking unexpectedly exquisite), at the entrance with Potter and Weasley-- both were wearing identical scowls. The three Gryffindors stood at the entrance for a minute, scanning the crowd.

'They came?'

Granger was clad in an overly simple pastel yellow dress robe. She let her hair fall beneath her shoulders in graceful ringlets. Pansy noticed a gift was clutched in her left hand.

The _Golden Trio_ abruptly separated. Potter and Weasley went to the refreshment table and Granger went the opposite direction, to the gift table.

**(10:50 pm)**

Pansy watched him nonchalantly swagger to the gift table, grabbing a little pastel yellow gift bag. Malfoy walked past her, smirking. "I'll be back in twenty minutes, Pans."

The birthday celebrant reached the doors before glancing over his shoulder-- it was very subtle, but Pansy noticed him motion his head. As if to say 'let's go'. Her eyes slowly traveled to the dance floor, Malfoy was motioning someone to leave with him, and that someone obviously wasn't her.

...As soon as the song ended, Hermione Granger struggled to escape the crowded dance floor...

Knowing she'd regret it, Pansy followed.

**(10:58 pm)**

The Slytherin beauty found herself at courtyard, she heard their voices. Crouching behind a concealing shrub, Pansy saw Malfoy, his back to her, seated on a bench.

Then Granger stood before him.

"Our tutorials have been cancelled every night the past month, we haven't _spoken_ in a month, but you decide to make an appearance at my party? You don't greet me, but I do receive a gift…" Malfoy drawled.

"Happy birthday, Draco." Granger then gestured to the present beside him on the bench. "Open it."

Slight rustling occurred while Malfoy unwrapped the gift.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean." He said, unimpressed. "Very original, Granger." Pansy snickered lightly at his sarcasm.

"Try one." The Gryffindor challenged.

Malfoy reached into the little pouch, popping one into his mouth.

He coughed, disgusted. "Vomit."

"Oh? Try another one."

Once again he did. Yet again he coughed out of revulsion. "Fucking vomit!"

"Odd. One more."

There was a pause… then Malfoy stood, spitting. "Vomit again, Granger. Are you trying to tell me something?"

Pansy noticed the Gryffindor was smiling. "I've been eating the vomit flavored beans all month." She stepped a little closer to him. "Three is enough to remind me how your lips tasted that afternoon." Granger finished in a whisper.

The princess Slytherin couldn't breathe.

Malfoy absently dropped the pouch of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean on the ground, approaching her with uncharacteristic reluctance…

Pansy tightly closed her eyes, her tears fell; their lips met.

"Very original, Hermione." He whispered hoarsely, breathless. She saw him lean down again, capturing Granger's lips once more.

"You were right, your seventeenth birthday _was_ extraordinary; not for _all _of us…for both of you." Pansy spat, almost inaudibly. She let herself collapse onto the ground, crying softly. "Happy birthday, Draco."

He was still kissing her.

**End Flashback.**

* * *

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	7. Creak

**(3.06.08) **I was really stupid and erased this chapter accidentally. Now it's back:-)

We see a side of Draco reserved for Hermione.

Here I go.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Malfoy roughly hoisted her atop him as their kiss intensified. The impact was harsh on his recovering ribs; he couldn't withhold groaning sharply.

Hermione abruptly pulled away, the action causing him to wince involuntarily-- her attempt to lessen his pain actually worsening it.

"A groan made clearly out of pleasure--" He offered unconvincingly, leaning up to capture her lips once more despite the surging pain he felt in his chest…

"I care to differ, Mr. Malfoy."

Appalled at being caught in such an inappropriate position, the Head Girl was off Malfoy at once. She was biting her lip while pretending to be absolutely fascinated by smoothing wrinkles from her disheveled robes.

"I can't say I'm surprised." Madame Pomfrey confessed, smiling coyly. "I expected such displays of _affection _last night, but I suppose that wasn't possible with Mr. Zabini present." She finished, her smile refusing to waver.

"I-I'm going to Potions." Hermione declared, scurrying away without an apologetic glance at her _unsatisfied _boyfriend.

Shrugging, Malfoy laid back. "We'll continue later."

Madame Pomfrey only giggled as she bustled around the empty Infirmary, absently tidying up. She thought the comment was made only to be taken as a joke… thankfully, she had no idea how _affectionate_ the young couple could be--

**000**

Her intoxicating scent still lingered; it had been at least three hours since their embrace, though Zabini still smelled her faint presence on his school uniform. While reciting the events of Malfoy's birthday celebration, Pansy became rather emotional. Not being a complete insensitive idiot, Zabini awkwardly pulled his sobbing friend into his strong arms. After a moment she abruptly withdrew from their contact, frantically muttering nonsense about being an absolute mess and retouching her makeup. She ran off, absently insisting that he go to class over her shoulder.

Zabini again found himself at the Hogwarts Infirmary. Immediately after being released for lunch, he hurried to the hospital wing, needing to speak with his best mate.

Sitting up in his hospital bed, Malfoy was devouring his lunch from a tray levitating above his lap.

"Good afternoon." Was he muffled greeting, mouth crammed with a large bite of pork chop.

"_Miserable_ afternoon, really." Zabini replied wretchedly. He hungrily eyed his friend's lunch but resisted the urge to grab the remaining untouched pork chop on the plate.

Their eyes met before Zabini continued. "I don't know if you'll want to hear this…"

Malfoy tore his eyes from his delectable mashed potatoes, hearing the rare tone his best mate was using. A tone of voice Zabini reserved when speaking of the fairer sex, _girls_. He had worried his housemate would develop a crush on his girl; _worried_, not anticipated.

"What is it?" Malfoy hissed venomously, loudly dropping his fork; it seemed he already knew what came next...

"We _hugged_." He croaked out uneasily. "And I felt something." Zabini groaned with obvious frustration. "_I _**felt **something!"

The injured Slytherin forcibly shoved the levitating tray aside, sending his plate, goblet, and utensils to the stone floor. The exertion had drained him of the little strength he had, his chest was surging with inconceivable pain-- Malfoy didn't seem to mind, eyeing his best mate viciously. "And you're fucking miserable because she's _mine, _right? FUCK!" It was unclear whether he was cursing out of frustration or because he finally took notice of the pain. "I'd pummel the shit out of you if I could."

Zabini was frozen by utter confusion but recovered, bravely marching to the intimidating young man-- roughly grabbing both his shoulders. "Only after I've pummeled the life out of myself first…" Zabini wanted to shake Malfoy for his blind jealousy but opted to just tighten his hold on those broad shoulders. "Draco, you've fallen for her, mate, I _wouldn't… _I will _never_… do that to you." Zabini was grinning as he released Malfoy from his hold. "Unfortunately talk of sappy nonsense does not cease… I felt an alien sensation when **Pansy **and I shared an embrace."

Exhaling loudly, Malfoy buried his handsome face into his hands-- he was feeling rather foolish. "You felt something when you hugged _Pansy_… Fuck, I'm a dick. Blaise--"

He was laughing in response. "It's fine, I understand. You've got reason to be eerily possessive. Granger's fantastic, and she's _yours_." Zabini paused thoughtfully. "And Pansy was once yours… you haven't got an unhealthy possessive attachment to your exes too, do you?"

Although Malfoy knew Zabini was joking, he deciphered the _real_ question he was asking:

'_If I were to pursue Pansy, would the courtship bother you?'_

Closing his eyes, the Head Boy recalled the feeling of having Pansy as a girlfriend. "Pansy's pretty amazing." Malfoy looked him over briefly. "I believe you're quite deserving of an amazing girl."

Zabini only shrugged at the remark, a reaction the blond had not expected.

"What's got you so miserable?" Malfoy gestured to the armchair beside his bed, silently asking that he sit.

"I'd rather stand, mate… and pace." And Zabini proceeded to pace. "I'm miserable because I'm flustered over a _girl_! ME!" Blaise Zabini was never flustered because of a girl-- girls were usually sickeningly flustered in _his _presence. Knowing Malfoy desired the details pertaining to the events which led up to him pacing in the Infirmary, Zabini launched into an explanation.

"She gave a detailed account of her perspective of your seventeenth birthday celebration… the account opened up old wounds, she cried… I felt idiotic just standing there watching her sob so I hugged her…" He met Malfoy's eyes-- "Drake, we've hugged plenty of times. Why was it different today?"

The injured Slytherin only shook his head. A brief silence fell before Malfoy spoke, avoiding Zabini's eyes. "I can't tell you why it felt different today. Though I know when feelings in a platonic relationship begin changing, avoidance is not the solution. But neither is oversimplifying the situation." He was clearly speaking from experience.

"So, I shouldn't go proclaiming anything to Pansy but I shouldn't ignore what I felt today. I see." Zabini then grinned proudly. "Impressive advice. My best mate, the relationship advisor."

Malfoy forcibly hurled a pillow at him. "You're a fucking comedian, mate." He very sarcastically complimented.

**000**

Hearing the portrait shut behind her awakened Hermione to her surroundings. Unable to recall just how she arrived at her Heads Common Room (and not really caring), she shrugged (which was difficult with her trademark overstuffed bag weighing a shoulder down), venturing into the spacious sitting room. An assortment of antique (scarlet and emerald) armchairs, a large coffee table, and two black leather sofas occupied the space. At a far corner were two gorgeous desks beside a grand window with a picturesque view of lake, even Hermione took breaks from studying just to enjoy the view.

Her eyes affectionately fell on a particular armchair, situated beside their stunning fireplace. The deep emerald armchair was reserved for a certain Slytherin, an injured Slytherin she missed terribly.

--the armchair was occupied.

"I didn't quite believe Madame Pomfrey when she said you strangely vanished." She hastily dropped her bag on the coffee table as she neared him.

"My ribs have healed excellently." He informed her, grabbing her hands once she was close enough.

"Oh?" She interlocked their fingers, allowing him to pull her onto his lap.

"I'll prove it to you." Malfoy promised hungrily; their lips met, both eager to continue what was interrupted earlier in the Infirmary. They rediscovered the sensation of their bodies intimately touching without the worry of irritating his injury.

They stood; bodies desperate to feel skin on skin, annoyed with the layers of clothing separating them.

"My bed or yours?"

She wrapped her slim arms around his neck. "Does it matter?" On the tips of her toes, she reinitiated the contact between their lips. Their tongues never tired of exploring the other. Robes were discarded onto the hardwood flooring as they unconsciously traveled to the closest Heads suite.

Hermione only realized she was no longer standing once she felt his cool silk sheets against her nearly bare back, clad only in her bra and panties.

He trailed kisses from her slender neck down to a naked hipbone; Malfoy took notice of her panties--

"I can recall asking to see proof of your support for my Quidditch team…" He tugged her underwear down slowly. "…these--" He briefly displayed the scarlet thong to her. "--are clearly Gryffindor-spirited." Malfoy then tossed it over his shoulder.

She moaned softly as he caressed her inner thighs--

"You must be reminded…" Hermione began, expertly gripping his boxers with her toes. "… you're sleeping with a lioness."

Malfoy hissed when she freed his arousal from its confinement. He gave no response to her declaration; with skill, he unexpectedly entered her.

Hermione instinctively arched into him, welcoming him back inside her.

**000**

Zabini absently prodded his partially-eaten steak with a fork, disregarding the company of acquaintances and their poor attempts at initiating a conversation with him. He felt deranged, Pansy's scent had faded from his robes ages ago but suddenly he felt heavily intoxicated by her smell. Zabini had forgotten he was in the Great Hall, having dinner-- lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize her scent returned to his nostrils only because she sat directly across him (not just because he was thoughts were on her).

"Zabini!" Pansy called his surname for the second time. "BLAISE!"

Finally realizing he wasn't delusional, he looked up from his plate.

Her dark hair hung just above her shoulders, framing her arguably beautiful face. Without the heavy makeup, she was absolutely striking… But Pansy Parkinson hid her natural beauty beneath a dreadfully heavy eye shadow/eyeliner combination, unneeded blush, and several coats of lip gloss. Although it seemed for the remainder of the day, after the infamous embrace she shared with Zabini, Pansy didn't reapply her expensive cosmetics. Her eyes sparkled brilliantly, not hidden by the eye make up…defined cheekbones more evident…succulent lips extremely kissable--

She met his gaze as she brushed her bangs behind her ear. "Draco's been released."

Zabini eyes scanned the Slytherin table before shifting his gaze back to her. "However, he's not at dinner…" He cocked a knowing eyebrow.

"I reckon he's already had his _dinner_." Pansy grabbed an uneaten roll on his plate.

He shoved his plate away, loudly pretending to vomit. "I am thoroughly disgusted!"

Openly rolling her eyes, she took a bite of the roll as she stood. "You ready to go see him?"

Barely nodding, he followed her out of the Great Hall before continuing their conversation. "You still care for him, don't you?"

For a few moments, their footsteps and the distant buzz of conversation from the Great Hall hid her lack of response--

"I'll always care about him." She admitted softly. "But I haven't _romantically_ cared for him since--"

"Since you witnessed their first kiss?" Zabini paused. "And by _first kiss _I mean one that didn't involve vomit…"

"Pardon?" When he only shook his head in response, Pansy decided to continue answering his question. "You'd think watching him _kiss _another girl would ease the process of letting go, but Blaise I tightened my hold on that relationship… and he pushed me away even further…" Zabini knew she had paused to compose herself, she did a poor job of silencing a sniffle. "Our tradition of spending our summer at Malfoy Manor was postponed due to your trip to Egypt. I decided to benefit from your absence by arriving at the manor a week earlier than scheduled. I was desperate to salvage what was left of our relationship… Had I known she'd be there… I really didn't think she'd be there…"

**Flashback:**

"Ziggy, I expect my luggage to be at Malfoy Manor no later than dinnertime, understood?" Without sending her house-elf a glance, Pansy continued studying her reflection with a satisfied smile. Her designer robes were complemented by her dark hair, and as always her makeup was flawless. It was ten in the morning, Malfoy would just be rousing from his sleep. She planned to Apparate to his incredible bathroom. In the past, she would Apparate to the extravagant foyer of Malfoy Manor but a formal arrival always denied the couple their desire to properly _greet_ one another. Narcissa Malfoy disliked Pansy's excessive displays of affection for her son. Apparition to his bathroom was informal and unladylike to Mrs. Malfoy but convenient to Pansy.

--Quietly closing the door to his bathroom, Pansy entered his predictably dark bedroom. She always hated his drapes; waking up, she never knew whether it was still nighttime or morning.

Waving her wand, she separated the concealing drapes. Sunlight flooded the grand chambers of Draco Malfoy--

"Those drapes, Draco…"

Her remark was drowned out by moaning, grunting, and bodies rhythmically shifting against sheets. But those sounds vanished so suddenly she almost believed she simply imagined the noises. Pansy's eyes moved to his bed--

Only his body covered Hermione's naked body, evidently his blankets had been kicked to the floor during their lovemaking--

"Pansy…" Malfoy croaked awkwardly. She swallowed a sob, watching him bury his face into Hermione's hair, clearly praying their intruder would leave.

"I may have caught you performing the worst act of infidelity…" She began unsteadily, the battle with her tears utterly audible. "And I can leave, allowing you to remorselessly continue being unfaithful… but you don't deserve to have me leave, Draco… you will _not_ avoid this confrontation." Pansy was crying, Malfoy was convinced she was incapable of the act. "You've denied me of your heart and your fidelity, Draco. Will you deny me of a confrontation too?" Her eyes frantically searched the floor for his underwear-- locating his silk boxers, she forcibly threw the underwear onto the bed. "Get dressed. We'll meet at the South Veranda."

Where she went after leaving Malfoy's chambers was a very vague recollection to her. She could recall heading to the South Veranda but then suddenly entered the nearest bedroom. Pansy slid down the wall, muffling her wails with her hand. She cried until she felt as if all the fluid in her body had exited through her eyes in the form of tears… Inspiringly, she mustered enough strength to recompose herself; reapplication of her makeup concealed her breakdown.

...Reaching the manor's foyer, Pansy was greeted by a house-elf.

"I shall escort you to the South Veranda, Miss Pansy."

She merely nodded, following the creature.

The South Veranda overlooked the extensive Malfoy gardens, truly magnificent views. In the past, Pansy and Malfoy enjoyed many breakfasts at this veranda.

Clad in a black silk morning robe, Malfoy was seated at a beautifully dressed table. The Malfoys preferred to dine in extravagance-- even the breakfast table required such lavishness. The cream tablecloth blew in the soft breeze, as did Malfoy's tousled hair.

The table was set for two; across him was a seat she assumed was hers. She ignored the reality of the seat truly being Hermione's, clearly the breakfast was intended for _them_.

As she sat, he did not acknowledge her presence. Malfoy simply continued to stir his coffee while he blankly stared at the stunning gardens.

"You couldn't even look at me while you were in bed with her…" She hissed, wanting so badly to obtain his attention-- or even just some sort of acknowledgment, was she no longer worthy ? "And now you've fooled yourself into thinking your coffee is more captivating than my presence! Look at me, Draco!" Pansy heard herself sounding so regrettably pathetic but she didn't care. "The least you can do is _look at me_."

Malfoy gave a hollow laugh. "I've been unable to _really_ look at you for months--"

Finally, their eyes met.

He suddenly reached across the table, placing his hand on hers.

Pansy relished the feel of his skin against hers, she couldn't recall when their hands touched last--

"Fuck, Pansy, I adore you." She almost smiled, but he had more to say. "You're my _best friend_…"

"GIRLFRIEND!" Insulted, she instantly withdrew from his touch before violently destroying the magnificence of the table, everything shattered to the floor-- including what was left of her heart. "I'm your _girlfriend_."

"You really want to be with me? I'm falling for her--" Malfoy paused abruptly, for once having spoken of his intensifying feelings for Hermione aloud. "Shit, I'm falling for her…"

**End Flashback.**

**000**

Malfoy rested his forehead against hers, watching her experience an explosive orgasm even as he emptied himself inside her. He felt her shaking beneath him; at long last she opened her eyes.

Hermione slightly sat up, only to gently touch her lips to his-- although the kiss quickly intensified. Ending the contact, her head met a plush pillow, she was exhausted. His lips moved to her wrist, she brushed stray damp hairs from his forehead.

"I missed you last night, Granger." He confessed sleepily.

"Was it me you missed, or was it the sex, Draco Malfoy?"

Eyeing her oddly, he rolled off her. "You can't be serious…"

Hermione gingerly laid her head on his toned chest, silently apologizing for the unneeded remark. "You know I missed you, Draco."

After a moment he wrapped a chiseled arm around her, she was forgiven.

Thinking his lack of response meant he was already retiring for the evening, Hermione pulled his thick blanket over their naked, sweaty bodies.

"Hermione…" He began sounding three-fourths asleep. "… in the past, it never bothered me that you doubted my intentions--" Malfoy yawned loudly, he was always most truthful during the moments right before he fell asleep. "… surely being with me so long has erased those doubts."

She nearly replied but his soft snore indicated her boyfriend hadn't resisted sleep to hear her answer. Hermione sincerely doubted his intentions only _once…_all right, _three_ times but all the doubting occurred the day following his party. And by the evening, Malfoy managed to obliterate those doubts…

**Flashback**.

Adjusting her tousled uniform and struggling to support the weight of her bag, she rushed through an empty corridor.

Hermione Granger overslept.

And she was late for Transfiguration.

Twisting the large doorknob, she steadied her breathing, lazily ran a hand through her messy curls, and _prayed_ the door would not creak--

-- and indeed the door creaked--

In turn, McGonagall halted her lecture just to address the tardy Gryffindor.

"So nice of you to join, Miss Granger." The professor eyed her sternly as the reddening Hermione closed the door. "It should be fairly comforting to know you are not alone in your tardiness. Last night's celebrant made his delayed attendance moments ago." She sent the front row of desks a withering glare.

Following her professor's glare, Hermione found Draco Malfoy-- sagging down his seat; he made lying down on a chair seem possible.

And beside him was the only empty seat.

Resisting the urge to whimper, she strutted down the aisle. Without acknowledging him, Hermione discarded her bag onto the desk before sitting.

As McGonagall lectured, Malfoy sent her discreet glances-- glances not even the fastest seeker could catch. Glances only the one being discreetly glanced _at_ could discreetly notice. She felt his eyes linger on her longer than usual-- she nearly questioned him with her eyes but refrained.

Five minutes before the end of class, they were instructed to discuss and practice what they learned from the lecture with their partners-- obviously Malfoy was her partner. Only when the classroom erupted with the buzz of separate conversations did Hermione finally speak to him, but she still did not meet his gaze.

"_Goodnight_." She said through gritted teeth.

His eyes lazily fell on her. "Excuse me?"

Hermione furiously met his blank stare. "Goodnight was what you could have said rather than just scuttling away last night--" She distantly heard McGonagall dismissing the class. "And goodbye." She blindly packed her belongings.

Malfoy grabbed her arm, keeping her from disappearing into the crowd of departing Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Had it been my choice, I would not have _needed_ to say goodnight." He was smirking.

She violently freed herself from his touch, disgusted. "And I've heard what I _needed_ to hear, Draco."

McGonagall, although unaware of the subject of their argument, nearly intervened-- seeing the fierce rage in both the faces of her students.

Sensing this, Hermione promptly walked away, heart pounding and heartbroken. She didn't see him lean against a wall, eyes closed (and disregarding the odd look he was receiving from his professor), cursing beneath his breathe.

She completely misunderstood him.

**000**

Although Hermione was not late to the Prefects meeting, somehow she and Malfoy were once again seated by one another. She was _almost_ disappointed, he had not attempted to acquire her attention-- no glances, not even one. Was he even aware she was sitting beside him?

As she intently listened to the words of the Head Boy and Head Girl, Hermione scribbled down what she found important. She abruptly spilled her ink-- as she dipped her quill into her inkwell, she felt his hand plant itself on her thigh. The force of her shock (she instinctively lurched forward, of course spilling her ink, in attempt to escape the unwelcome touch she felt) caused her to ruin the page of notes she had taken. Cleaning the mess, she nearly forgot what caused the incident. But underneath the conveniently concealing table, his hand began to move (well…she foolishly _thought_ his hand moved; still expecting the worst from him).

Hermione desperately placed her hands above the area she knew Malfoy was after-- _the area between her thighs_; his pursuit continued, slowly his hand crept closer to its destination. His despicable behavior was proof of his desire to have her body, _only_ her body. Unwilling to surrender to him, Hermione nearly stood up-- but his hand's journey was finished.

She blushed deeply, feeling him lace his fingers through hers... Draco Malfoy was holding her hand. Hermione hadn't realized his hand had only embarked on the journey once _her _hands returned to her lap. During Transfiguration, he had _purposely_ observed where her hands went after note taking; long before the Prefects meeting, he decided her lap would be the location of his capture. Strategic but greatly (and reasonably) misinterpreted by the suspicious Gryffindor. What mattered was her misinterpretation was **successfully** countered, judging from lovely shade of red coloring her face. Returning her hands to her lap (although the purpose of the return was to shield herself from his misinterpreted intentions) was his invitation to launch the plan he developed shortly following their last conversation.

His hand felt a bit like parchment; Hermione then smiled stupidly, suddenly aware he had skillfully slipped a piece of parchment into her hand.

She expected him to withdraw from the contact, having successfully delivered the note-- she didn't know he was expecting _her _to cease the handholding.

Neither withdrew.

…As the meeting continued, her hand remained in his.

* * *

Rewrote this in two days! YES. Erasing the other version was really a blessing in disguise because I really didn't want to do the Harry/Pansy relationship. I was going to use it to soften the shock of the news of Hermione and Draco's relationship, but I've thought of solid idea for that and no longer need the Pansy/Harry pairing. Nothing else has changed with the plot except I will NOT be pairing Harry and Pansy together.


	8. Changing Rooms

We see the side of Malfoy reserved only for Hermione.

Thank you for the continued support! Please continue telling me what you think!

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

_Granger.  
Quidditch changing rooms.  
Eleven tonight. _

Hermione re-read the crumpled piece of parchment, afterwards eyeing the Muggle watch latched around her bony wrist.

10:55, her watch read.

She squinted, attempting to locate the Quidditch changing rooms through the darkness of the evening.

"Only a bloody Quidditch player would choose such a place to meet." Hermione grumbled to herself. She reached the changing rooms without delay and nearly entered. But she remembered tidbits of revolting male conversations she'd heard in the past:

_"Last night, after the Prefects were through with their patrolling, I took her to the changing rooms. We shagged all night, mate…"_

_"--the broom closets aren't as roomy as the changing rooms…"_

_"…changing rooms are perfect for a shag, a late night snog even. Absolutely no interruptions…"_

A strong arm was wrapped around her waist, startling her from her thoughts.

"After you."

"Draco…" She began, turning to face him. "I just realized what the changing rooms are legendary for. And it's got absolutely nothing to do with Quidditch."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, the arm around her slim waist dropping limp on his side. "I'm quite aware of that, Granger. That's why I've asked you here this evening."

Shaking her head in defeat, Hermione walked back towards the castle, away from him.

"Its reputation says it's a marvelous place to have a ceaseless shag, yes. But many locations within the castle can rival the changing room's reputation, Granger. The only feature the changing room has that the appeals to me is its infinite amount of privacy during the late hours of the night." He gave a hollow laugh. "Do you honestly think I've brought you out here to shag you?"

She turned to face him.

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"I think…" Malfoy approached her slowly.

They were close. Extremely close. And Hermione couldn't seem to muster any desire to back away from him.

He leaned down swiftly, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was brief but definitely thorough. "…No… I'm quite certain I've wanted to do that since earlier this morning." Malfoy slid a hand down her arm gently, their hands eventually met. He smirked, almost grinning actually. "Talk to me, Granger, it's all I ask."

"Why did you leave so abruptly last night?" Hermione asked softly as he tugged her into the changing rooms.

Malfoy flicked his wand with ease along with a muttered spell. As a result the changing room was suddenly lit. The light revealed a lounge for the players to deliberate before a match and a series of doors leading to Quidditch equipment, brooms, uniforms, the showers, and personal storage areas. It was quite large to Hermione's surprise.

Letting go of her hand, Malfoy lazily seated himself on a somewhat tattered sofa.

"You see, about ten minutes into our snog-fest, I heard the faint chanting of my name from the Great Hall. I ignored them, if you hadn't deduced that detail. Fifteen minutes elapsed and I then heard my best mate's voice, amplified much louder to overwhelm the chanting of my guests. 'Mate, your birthday is almost over and you have yet to blow out your candles! The night is certainly still young enough to shag but come on, it's becoming incredibly late to blow out your bloody candles!' I understand you were a bit preoccupied with my tongue, so I forgive you for thinking I'd just leave without reason."

Hermione eyed him skeptically, crossing her arms, unimpressed. "You couldn't spare a moment to say some parting words?" She sat herself on the ottoman situated at the middle of the lounge, facing him, their knees touching slightly.

"Had I been reminded of who I was leaving with a mere glance over my shoulder, I'm certain I would not have left, Granger."

She sat up a little, barely touching her lips against his. "This entire situation is completely bizarre."

In response Malfoy leaned into the kiss roughly, deepening it with a smirk.

He pulled away shrugging as he leaned back against the worn cushions. "Well a courtship between you and I could only be strange if not improbable."

Hermione prodded his toned chest suddenly, her sculpted eyebrows furrowed. "What was it you said earlier at McGonagall's, Draco? 'Had it been my choice, I would not have needed to say goodnight'. And you're appalled of my assuming I was brought here for a shag!"

Malfoy chuckled softly at her poor imitation of him. "Merlin, my girl's got quite a filthy mind, doesn't she?" He ran a hand through his blond hair before sliding it down to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. "I know you find this entire courtship, if I can even call this-" He motioned at himself, the little space between them and then Hermione. "-a courtship, bizarre. And you're utterly convinced I'm only in this to fuck you…"

"Malfoy, I've never seen you so flustered. It's delightful, to be honest." Laughing softly, she placed her hand on his. "What are you in this for, then?"

He openly rolled his eyes. "I'm in this for you, Hermione. It's infuriating to have you at the top of our class with the questions you ask sometimes." Malfoy glanced at her watch before standing. "Fuck. I told Snape I'd be gone no longer than fifteen minutes…." He laced their hands as he stood.

And just as they entered the changing rooms, Hermione and Malfoy exited hand-in-hand.

"Now what?" Hermione questioned delicately.

The grass crunched loudly beneath their feet as they walked back to the castle.

Wearing a handsome grin, Malfoy turned to her as they continued to walk. "I believe I'm walking my girlfriend to her Common Room."

**End Flashback.**

Standing before a grand portrait of Hogwart's first ever Head Boy and Head Girl, were Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. The particular corridor in which the two Slyrtherins stood was not a central route for Hogwarts students, which was not a coincidence. For the particular corridor predictably held the entrance, behind the portrait of the first ever Head Boy and Head Girl, to the Heads Common Room.

"Pass-" Began the Head Girl.

"-word?" Finished the Head Boy.

Smirking, Zabini uttered the password. "Polka dots."

As the portrait swung open, revealing a spiraling stone staircase, he motioned Pansy to go on before him with a small chuckle. "I never understood their password until now."

They reached the empty Common Room in silence-

"Empty Common Room…excellent." Pansy immediately walked over to Malfoy's large, cluttered desk.

"Zabini-" She continued with uncontained excitement. "Did you know-"

He eyed her oddly, watching her open a small, familiar, and rather unforgettable cabinet, a small cabinet he recalled seeing on Malfoy's desk in the Slytherin Common Room when they previously roomed together, placed at the right side his best mate's current desk. He always assumed Malfoy simply charmed the cabinet to become part of whatever desk he was given each school year.

"-that your best mate has a Pensieve?" She produced a shallow stone basin; the Pensieve. "My goodness he's got plenty of vials in here to keep us occupied for days…."

Interested, Zabini joined her as she read labeled vials, vials that clearly held Malfoy's most private and intimate of thoughts. Thoughts he found essential to extract and be kept in a vial for his Pensieve.

Shaking his head, Zabini held up a vial labeled '4/15'. "Can't forget April fifteenth of last year… I know why he's kept this memory. To relive our humiliating loss against Hufflepuff. I'd like to see this in his perspective." He then poured the memory into the Pensieve, which was immediately filled with swirling silver threads- Malfoy's memory.

"You've got to be joking, Blaise- I planned on viewing memories pertaining to himself and Granger tonight! I just watched a bloody match yesterday! They are all the same to me…"

"You mean to tell me you planned this escapade? Niiice." Grinning, Zabini linked their arms before leaning over the glowing basin…

….The two Slyrtherins then fell into Draco Malfoy's memory of April fifteenth; although the memory would not take them to the Quidditch field….

_**Pensieve:  
April fifteenth**_

"Fuck! Easy, Granger-" Malfoy groaned loudly.

"You're not making it _easy _for me, Draco. Relax! You're so tense…" Straddling his back, Hermione sent her boyfriend an irritated glare he couldn't see, his face was pressed against the bed they conjured into the Room of Requirement. Malfoy had collapsed on the bed beside her (where she sat waiting for him) without a word, silenced by an unforeseen loss to Hufflepuff; both body and ego were in agony. She then found herself kneading his tired muscles as he lay flat on his toned, sculpted stomach.

Sighing, Hermione complied to his request, easing her hold on the muscles of his broad shoulders. "Tell me about the match." She requested softly, continuing on with her ministrations.

"Not a single Slytherin was scoring. Hufflepuff did not defeat us, we as a team defeated ourselves. I caught the snitch, but we did not have enough points to win the match entirely. Although I knew we did not have a sufficient amount of points for a win, my pride would not allow me to let their Seeker catch the snitch. I knew the match was already lost. So, not wanting to delay our agony, I caught the snitch and we lost." Malfoy paused. "You would have known what happened had you attended."

He felt the rhythmic kneading of her small hands stop-

"Did you want me there?"

"It's just frustrating knowing the only matches you'll attend to watch me play are the ones against your house. And you wouldn't be attending entirely for me."

Although only together merely a month, the feelings between Hermione and Draco were quickly intensifying…

"Don't you think I'd be a bit out of place at a Slytherin/Hufflepuff game?" Gingerly climbing off of him, Hermione seated herself beside Malfoy- arms crossed.

She didn't see him roll his eyes as he buried his handsome face deeper into the mattress; his way of dealing with his frustration. "Merlin, your appearance at one Slytherin match will not reveal our relationship, Hermione…" The mattress muffled Malfoy's speech, he sounded tired. "Instead of being a supportive girlfriend, you decided to read Hogwarts, A History for the fifteenth time…"

"Malfoy…" She began weakly through gritted teeth.

"I've got a match against Ravenclaw in three days. You've chosen simply reading for recreational purposes over supporting me, so my priority will now be practicing with my team rather than being with you. Three straight days of practice and nothing else, Granger. I'll see you _after_ the match, as _always._"

Malfoy felt her weight abruptly leave the bed. And shortly afterwards, he heard a door slamming.

(The next memory Zabini and Pansy chose to view was the date closest to April fifteenth. Which was unsurprisingly the eighteenth of April, _three days after the last memory._)

The five hours of practice Malfoy demanded for three brutal days paid off. The Slytherins pummeled the Ravenclaws, quickly ending any talk of a weakening Malfoy regiment.

The Slytherin captain watched his teammates proudly embrace their supportive other halves, again Malfoy was inwardly wounded _his_ other half _couldn't_ jump into his tired arms. Although he was leaving the pitch with a victory, he felt even worse than he did three days ago when he left with a loss against Hufflepuff. Winning in a game of Quidditch didn't feel as spectacular to Malfoy given that the sport was now an issue in his relationship. Like he said, Hermione came next to practice- and because of this they had not spoken since their evening together in the Room of Requirement.

Sighing, he turned to face the pitch before he headed to the changing rooms, Malfoy did this routinely after every match. And every time he did so, the sight of a nearly empty pitch met his stormy eyes. And recently, he found himself fondly eyeing a particular spot in the stands… _Their_ spot, their unique first kiss was shared there.

….and at that particular spot sat his girlfriend. Malfoy knew she noticed him attempt to resist a grin, and Hermione smiled at this. She then looked over her shoulder at a private viewing box, commonly reserved for parents and professors. Malfoy's smirk became very evident at the sight of her unspoken request. For the moment, the viewing box was reserved the Slytherin captain and his guest.

(Zabini and Pansy watched him stealthily fly to the viewing box; Pansy was given an exaggerated nudge on the side. ) 

When Malfoy entered the viewing box, Hermione was observing the empty field through the one-way mirror, its purpose being to conceal the identities of those really desiring privacy. He placed his broom down before approaching her.

"That was quite a match…" Hermione turned to face him. "…my favorite part was my boyfriend catching the snitch while dodging that speeding bludger."

Malfoy wrapped his chiseled arms around her, smirking slightly. "Is that so, Granger? And what was his favored portion of the match, do you know?" He slid both tired hands from her petite waist down to her bottom.

"Winning in general, I suppose…"

He kissed her briefly before replying.

"Fuck, we could've lost the bloody match today and I wouldn't give a shit as long as it still ended like this."

Their lips met again, roughly.

"Ended with us snogging in one of the viewing boxes?" Hermione asked breathlessly. Her back was now against the one-way mirror, their tongues danced, as did their bodies.

Malfoy uncharacteristically nuzzled the crook of her slender neck. "Wrong again, Hermione. As long as the ending involved me having known you attended the match for me." She saw the honesty in his eyes before he initiated another lengthy kiss.

Malfoy eagerly pressed himself against her-

"-DRACO MALFOY!" The hoarse voice of Hogwart's ill-tempered caretaker, Argus Filch, ceased Malfoy's intention of sneaking his cold hands beneath his girlfriend's form-fitted button-down polo. "This is the THIRD occasion I've seen you enter one of our fine private viewing boxes for a little _celebration_!"

Hermione eyed the smirking Slytherin with intrigue. "Oh is that so?" She whispered as she recomposed herself. "Here I was thinking I've impressed you."

"Thirty seconds, Malfoy. You open it willingly. After that has expired I'll have no choice but to take a bribe to keep this incident quiet!" His chuckle was muffled but it was still audible.

Rolling his eyes at both Filch and Hermione, he gave no reply to either of them as he expertly waved his wand with a muttered spell; the one way mirror vanished. "Shut it, Granger. You don't really think you've got to snog me in a viewing box to impress me, do you? For someone at the top of our class, you've had a very off day." Smirking, Malfoy mounted his broom, he motioned for her to do so as well.

"Three, two, one. Time's up!" They heard the caretaker growl.

Malfoy made a smooth exit through the open rectangular space where the one way mirror once was.

"HEY!" Filch called out, his voice was faint as they flew further away.

…And just as quickly as they took off, Hermione and Malfoy were already landing.

"Why've we landed here?" She asked, eyeing the changing rooms through the darkness that had already fallen.

"I need to retrieve my belongings. _And_, we wouldn't want any of our fellow students catching a glimpse of you and I on a romantic fly, do you?" Malfoy gave a small chuckle before wrapping a lazy arm around her shoulder. "And not to worry, Granger, everyone's out and showered by now."

They entered through the back entrance, which led them straight to the showers. As he removed the top half of his uniform, Malfoy motioned his girlfriend to start one of the showers for him.

"Would you care to join me?"

Their eyes met, both deciding whether or not to address the request seriously.

"I'd rather not, Mr. Malfoy." Came the horrifying voice of Severus Snape. His footsteps were quickly nearing.

Instinctively, and with panic, Hermione jumped into the hot shower she started for Malfoy.

"That's a rather disturbing question to ask me…" The Head of the Slytherin House appeared before his favored pupil, eyeing him skeptically. "The question _was_ addressed to me, correct, Draco?" Snape's eyes then roamed the entire vicinity.

"It was simply a joke, Professor." Malfoy shrugged, gulping silently.

"I see, well _joking _aside…I've been waiting ages for your presence, Malfoy. The team preferred that I speak to you about the matter before you return to the dungeons. You see, although the win today was spectacular, your teammates are exhausted. Now usually I don't fault a captain as long as his techniques result in victories. But even I must say that my students are being overworked on the field. Three hours of practice, every other day from now on. Understood?"

"Yes sir. I agree. I had a lot on my mind recently. I used Quidditch to get my mind off my issues, it was wrong of me."

"We'll discuss this practice schedule once you're through here. I'll be in my office." Snape nodded stiffly before turning to leave. "I suppose your lady friend is not a Slytherin, otherwise she would have shown herself to me." Malfoy heard his professor give a slight chuckle as he watched him disappear.

Laughing sarcastically, Malfoy rushed to the stall Hermione jumped into.

The sight that greeted him rendered Malfoy speechless.

Hermione stood leant against the tile wall of the stall, the hot water directly spilling over her body . Her eyes were closed, chest heaving rhythmically. She was soaked, her white polo stuck to her body, a red lacey bra very perceptible.

The Slytherin advanced with snake-like stealth. His strong body then blocked the water from hitting her, Hermione's eyes opened slowly. Their eyes intensely met as Malfoy's hands continued what they started in the viewing box; finally her top came off.

Ordinarily, by the second week of a new relationship, Malfoy had already slept with his girlfriend- repeatedly. But with Hermione, nothing was rushed… nothing was planned.

Biting her lip, Hermione ran a hand down his amazingly toned torso. "Should I be laughing or turned on?" She questioned coyly.

He placed a chaste kiss on her bare shoulder; Hermione quickly noticed at the start of their relationship that intimacy softened Malfoy's foul exterior. "Why on Merlin's earth would you laugh before the amazing sex that's about to commence?" Malfoy's lips moved on to her slim neck.

"Careful, Malfoy. Honestly, that arrogance is a bit displeasing…" Her comment had less of a sting given that she moaned the entire statement.

"I find this situation quite humorous due to the fact that I was completely disgusted with the thought of giving my body to you _here_ of all places a mere month ago… But now-" His Quidditch pants began to come down, revealing his silk boxers- "My feelings for you _and_ for your body have certainly intensified..." Hermione finished in a whisper as he kicked the pants off as it fell to his ankles.

She knew Malfoy's response from the kiss he gave her, the kiss told her his feelings were just as intense, for Hermione and her body.

It was her turn to have her jeans taken off…

(Not wanting to delve too deeply into Hermione and Malfoy's relationship, Pansy muttered a spell that removed them from the memory).

Zabini and Pansy felt the hardwood flooring of the Heads Common Room under their feet. Pansy turned to the blushing Slytherin beside her, she rolled her eyes. "I don't see a seventh year young man standing before me, I see a perverted little schoolboy, honestly!"

"And I see two people who apparently know nothing about privacy." Came the deadly drawl of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

I don't like explicit sex scenes. oops. maybe I'll get over it as the story progresses. Lol. Did you like it? Tell me with a review! Thanks! 

Next, why is Draco so mad?!


	9. Unbecoming

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. I would love to own Tom Felton though!**

It's been three months since my last update, I apologize. I'm in college now, so school is my top priority. I'm a pre-nursing student. Ahh. I'd love to write for a living but I guess you can say the medical field is my other passion. thank you for continuing to show your support by reviewing! You guys keep me going! Continue reading and continue reviewing!

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

His footsteps were thunderous-

Terrified, at least Zabini was, the caught Slytherins looked over to the grand staircases; Hermione and Malfoy had individual staircases to their Heads suites.

The Head Boy, eyeing his housemates venomously, was descending from the left staircase. The silk emerald robe loosely wrapped around his amazing Seeker's body billowed behind him with every step he took.

"Who the fuck do you two think you are?" Malfoy lividly asked through gritted teeth, finally reaching them, at once shoving Zabini roughly; shoving him away from the desk, away his Pensieve, away from his memories. Knowing he was at fault, Zabini did not react. "I expected this type of bullshit from you Parkinson..." The seething Slytherin busied himself with angrily returning the displaced vials back into the cabinet before he spoke again. "…but not from you, Blaise."

He then came across the empty April eighteenth vial, the memory Pansy and Zabini just finished viewing

"-this is a fucking joke, right?"

Suddenly Zabini was ashamed, but the feeling was only momentary. He had no time to feel shame; at the sight of an empty vial clutched in his right hand, Zabini quickly realized Malfoy knew the intimate memories of April eighteenth were no longer shared between two people, but four.

Anticipating his best friend's reaction, Zabini roughly seized Pansy's arm, with his eyes silently demanding that she leave, not wanting her to become an outlet for Malfoy's oncoming rage. She was not given an opportunity to reply-

"Zabini, tell me you didn't watch me fucking my girlfriend." Malfoy requested quietly, he turned to face the pair. Zabini's eyes left Pansy's, only to meet a pair of cold, betrayed silver eyes.

"Draco…" Pansy desperately intervened-

"You think it's wise of you to speak to me right now, Parkinson? Of course you devised that quest into my Pensieve, being the conniving bitch you are." He spat, disgusted. "BLAISE! Tell me you didn't watch us fucking in the showers… Fuck, tell me you didn't. You wouldn't do that to me, mate…"

Again, Zabini felt shame attacking his conscience, although he knew they only watched the prelude to the sex. He did not know how to explain what actually occurred, knowing Malfoy would not listen. He decided to say nothing-

The silence was deafening to Malfoy, in the silence he heard betrayal being shouted repeatedly.

He scoffed bitterly, taking a dangerous step towards them. "So for getting her into the Heads Common Room, your reward is what, Blaise? A reenactment of what you witnessed in my Pensieve perhaps?" His sarcasm was deadly.

"Don't go there, Malfoy, it's not fucking like that and you know it!" Zabini snarled furiously, angered by his insinuation.

Instead of continuing to approach his housemates, Malfoy spun around, walking towards the staircases; finished with the discussion. "Nevertheless, if sex isn't your reward, a pissed off best mate should suffice." He climbed the stairs he previously descended from.

"We've got to discuss this, Malfoy-" He called after him; Pansy had already exited the Heads Common Room. She was leant against the corridor wall beside the portrait of the former Head Boy and Head Girl, waiting for Zabini .

"Leave!" Malfoy demanded over his shoulder before he entered his Heads suite.

**000**

Malfoy's Heads suite was dim, merely lit by a lone antique lamp, its partner unlit on the opposing nightstand. Lazily tossing his robe on a nearby armchair, he joined a dormant Hermione on his extravagantly dressed bed. Before switching off the suite's only source of light, Malfoy glanced at his wristwatch on his nightstand; it was only ten. Shrugging indifferently, he extinguished the little amount of light left in the room. The Slytherin then shifted closer to his undressed girlfriend, her bare back was to him. Positioning himself on his side comfortably, he wrapped a chiseled arm around her naked waist as she continued to sleep.

He recalled his behavior towards Zabini, his best friend, just minutes ago. They understood one another, conflict between the two Slytherins a rarity. Malfoy could only hope Zabini recognized the reason for his reaction...

"…being in love with you is entirely unbecoming on me sometimes, Granger." Malfoy muttered, faintly grinning to himself before allowing sleep to claim him.

**000**

"Has he gone completely mad? His accusations were ludicrous!" Pansy paused. "Not to mention horribly random…" Subtly, her eyes flickered to him, steadily treading beside her. Pansy was confident she wasn't imagining what she felt…and she was even more confident Zabini felt it too.

It seemed Malfoy's mention of sex, between herself and Blaise Zabini, created what some would call sexual tension between the two Slytherins. Or had it always been there and they've finally taken notice? The topic of whether or not the sexual tension existed before their confrontation with Malfoy was not going to be discussed, at least not by Zabini and Pansy.

Together, she and Zabini walked through a deserted Hogwarts corridor, en route to the Slytherin Common Room in the dungeons.

Quickly glancing at her with definite annoyance, Zabini openly rolled his eyes. "Of course he's gone mad, Parkinson! The bloody bloke's _madly _in love!"

She sighed loudly. "I suppose you're right. But knowing that did not stop you from letting him think we watched the entire shower scene…"

"The thought of his ex-girlfriend and best mate, a guy with hormones, watching him be intimate with his gloriously NAKED girlfriend-" Pansy smacked his arm at the statement. "Hormones! Like I said, _guy with hormones_!"

"But we saw no 'gloriously naked girlfriend'! I mean, I don't know what went on inside that perverted little mind of yours after I extracted us from the Pensieve…"

"Silence, Parkinson! As I was saying, the _thought_ of us seeing the very intimate side of their relationship, the side that involves nudity, drove dear Malfoy insane. He saw the empty vial, Pansy. After seeing that, he was no longer thinking intelligently. Malfoy was thinking with his heart, strange as that sounds. You heard him, he said he knew I wouldn't do that to him, his brain knew that." As Malfoy hoped, Zabini did recognize the reason for his reaction. "He'll be willing to listen tomorrow when the use of his brain is revived."

A silence fell upon them as they walked.

"I was with him more than a year… why don't I know him the way you do?" Pansy asked in whisper.

"Difficult as it is to hear, Pans, you hardly knew him during the time you two were together."

**000**

Grabbing her overstuffed book bag from the foot of her bed, a Hogwarts uniform clad Hermione was ready for the morning. Although she still needed to fully complete her morning routine before heading down to the Great Hall. Normally, the Granger morning routine was completed by waiting for her boyfriend in their Heads Common Room, or he'd be waiting for her. They never walked to breakfast together, but Malfoy and Hermione made certain to include their meetings at the Heads Common Room part of their morning routines. Unfortunately, Hermione volunteered herself to oversee breakfast preparation at the kitchens, professors usually took shifts doing this. But much like muggle teachers, the professors of Hogwarts had faculty meetings from time to time. Heads responsibilities came before their little rituals.

Hermione partially entered their adjoined lavatory, the shower was still running. "Draco?"

"Yes?" He called over roar of the running water.

"I'm overseeing breakfast preparation at the kitchens this morning. I've got to head out already."

"I'll see you in a bit then." Malfoy replied loudly, continuing to bathe.

Nodding mostly to herself, she almost closed her door to the lavatory-

"-Hermione!…"

There was a long pause. Knowing what his pause meant, Hermione was surprised.

"I know." She assured him, understanding everything he conveyed through the silence of his pause. "I love you too, Draco."

Nearly a week had passed since the last time they had that particular exchange, Hermione hated herself for counting the days, but she still did. Malfoy always surprised her each time he initiated the exchange, he surprised her even more when he's vocalized how he felt, saying "I love you". But love was very new to Malfoy's vocabulary, Hermione understood. The actuality that he felt it was what mattered to her, and he's made his feelings very clear to her.

**000**

The Head Girl arrived for breakfast earlier than she usually did, a professor had relieved Hermione of kitchen duty twenty minutes after she arrived. All four tables were almost full, she noticed as she walked to the Gryffindor table. Both Ron and Harry were already at their typical seats, eyeing Hermione as she approached.

"Good morning." She greeted softly, taking her seat beside Ron.

"'Good morning'?" Ron nearly shouted. "'Good morning' is all you've got to say to us after you completely disappeared yesterday! You were gone the entire morning, Hermione!"

Hermione sighed loudly, meeting the redhead's angry gaze. "I apologize if I worried either of you. I was up with Heads business the night before. I couldn't muster the strength to attend my morning classes." She then met the concerned emerald eyes of Harry Potter. "And Harry, I really am sorry for my behavior at the Infirmary. In that situation, I had to be Head Girl before being your best friend. When I'm dealing with disciplinary matters you've got to understand that being friends with me does not exclude you from the rules."

He gave a slight smile. "Don't apologize for doing what you had to do. I blew the Slytherin win entirely out of proportion… How is Malfoy doing anyhow?"

Before she could respond, an enormous flock of owls flew into the Great Hall, most were delivering copies of the Daily Prophet to their owners, from what Hermione could see.

A fresh copy of the Daily Prophet landed on Ron's empty plate.

Turning her attention back to Harry, Hermione carried on their conversation while Ron began skimming the front page. "Pardon? What was it you asked, Harry?"

Harry was piling his not so empty plate with even more food. "Oh…" He began distractedly. "How's Malfoy doing?"

"Pretty damn well!" Ron answered for Hermione, sounding rather impressed. The Daily Prophet's front page article seemed to awaken the young Weasley's love of reading, normally Ron detested reading .

Harry and Hermione exchanged very intrigued looks before questioning how Ron, of all people, knew of Malfoy's condition.

"How do I know this, you ask?" Ron continued before either of his best friends could speak a word. "Listen to this:

"_Every year, the Daily Prophet names a seventeen year old young man to reign as the Wizarding World's most eligible __**underage **__bachelor until he's turned eighteen. Now that Harry Potter is eighteen, Draco Malfoy (seventeen!) has assumed the position of the Wizarding World's most eligible underage bachelor_. _He's devastatingly handsome, intelligent (Head Boy of Hogwarts), and he's the outrageously wealthy heir to the Malfoy Empire! But will we need to skip bestowing the honor to Draco and go on to the now second most eligible bachelor, Blaise Zabini, also seventeen and Draco's best mate. Why skip the Hogwarts heartthrob and rumored sex god, Draco Malfoy, you ask? In an exclusive interview with the ever lovely Madame Narcissa Malfoy, the subject of her marriage to her late husband Lucius Malfoy led to the question of marriage for young Draco. She very lightly implied her only son and heir to the Malfoy riches may have already found a bride! Mrs. Malfoy promptly added, with grace of course, that Draco and his potential bride are NOT engaged, but she can see the relationship continuing to progress towards marriage, especially after they've graduated. Most eligible bachelor may not be so fitting for him since it seems he's got himself a girlfriend! A girlfriend that may very well become young Malfoy's fiancée sometime after his graduation. Oh, did I mention his mother highly approves of his mystery girl? __Sighs. For now, we'll let Draco Malfoy have his cake and eat it as well. He will be given the Daily Prophet's title of the Wizarding World's most eligible underage bachelor until he's turned eighteen __**and **__he'll continue to be a complete contradiction to his title by having, what it seems, a __**serious**__ girlfriend_."

**000**

While Zabini poured himself a glass of orange juice, he glanced down the newly delivered issue of the Daily Prophet before him.

"Holy shit…" He contained chuckle. A photograph of his best mate arrogantly stared up at him from the front page of the newspaper. Then his dark eyes grazed over the headline.

'**Hogwarts Heartthrob Taken**!'

"Oh Rita, your articles are never trivial-"

"Blaise!" Pansy grabbed the glass pitcher from his grasp as she seated herself, his goblet was overflowing with orange juice. "Are you awake?" She questioned, laughing softly.

Zabini displayed the front page article to her.

"He's tremendously photogenic. I hate him for it."

"Yes, his ability to photograph well is what we should be focusing on right now. Let's totally disregard the bit about his relationship being revealed!" The annoyed Slytherin shook his head at Pansy's lack of concern for the situation. He quickly began to read the article, eager to learn how the relationship was exposed. Zabini gave no reaction to what he read, knowing she would craft an assumption about the content of the article based on his reaction.

As she observed her housemate, waiting for some sort of a response to the piece written about his best friend and her ex-boyfriend, Pansy realized- _when he was silent_- Zabini was quite good-looking. She nearly slapped herself for having such a thought.

"Give me that!" Pansy snapped, yanking the paper from her housemate's hands when she noticed he was already through reading it. "…This won't inflate his ego at all …" Revolted, she continued to read. "Wow… I knew Draco introduced her to Narcissa but I wasn't aware she 'highly approved' and I certainly didn't know she expects them 'to progress towards marriage'…"

Zabini scoffed. "You mean to tell me you don't agree with Lady Malfoy?"

"I fit the Malfoy bride criteria more than _she_ does and Narcissa could hardly tolerate me!"

"It's not your lack of credentials, perhaps she can't stand you for the same reason why many can't tolerate you…" Zabini cautiously offered.

"And what reason is that?" She inquired through gritted teeth.

Already wincing, he answered. "You're somewhat of a bitch--" _A bitch I'm very stupidly attracted to._

**000**

The Head Boy walked through the Great Hall, his deadly expression a challenge to those wishing to begin their morning off with a brutal Malfoy pummeling.

Having read the article after his shower, Malfoy decided during his walk to breakfast, he was not angry at his mother. Honestly he was pleased his relationship status was announced to all Daily Prophet subscribers, who in turn would spread the news to those who had no access to the hottest piece of gossip to hit the papers in weeks. He pleased his mother openly approved of his girlfriend. He was pleased his girlfriend's identity was not revealed in the article. He was also pleased with his new title as the Wizarding World's most eligible underage bachelor, Malfoy had a few months left until he celebrated his eighteenth birthday. He was pleased the article gave only enough to inform the public, but because it was only enough to inform, many would be pestering him for more information. This did not please Malfoy, the thought brought an absolutely terrifying gleam to his eyes. And the terrifying gleam in his silver eyes certainly seemed to discourage many from ever pestering him.

Smirking at the fear he skillfully produced, Malfoy swaggered to his seat at the Slytherin table, beside Pansy and across Zabini.

"Blaise-" He sat, completely disregarding his ex-girlfriend's presence. "Once you've finished your breakfast, I'd like to talk to you… privately." Malfoy turned to Pansy as he placed great emphasis on 'privately'.

"It's too late, Malfoy." Zabini drawled, shrugging loosely. "I already know you've got girlfriend…shit, I think everyone already knows you've got a girlfriend." He finished grinning. The surrounding Slytherins, having heard Zabini's comment, waited for Malfoy's vicious reaction.

He gave a surprised laugh, not expecting the reply. "You read the article. Did you notice you were mentioned as second to me, as always?" The remark elicited snickers from nearby Slytherins.

Zabini stood, still grinning at the exchange he was having with his best mate. "I'm second to you, you second to Potter. Or did you not realize you were only given the title because he turned eighteen?"

Malfoy stood as well. "Fuck Potter! Or should we leave the honors to Parkinson?" Many howled at the suggestion as Zabini and Malfoy left the table.

"Funny as that was, Malfoy, I have to say it was rather harsh--" Zabini confessed after calming his laughter.

"You think so? Maybe she'll cry again so you can once more gallantly comfort her."

The two Slytherins shared amused grins as they exited the Great Hall, heading to the Infirmary. Malfoy had a brief checkup with Madame Pomfrey before class began.

"Have I really been that awful to her?"

"Well considering what you've done to her in the past and how you treated her last night… _and_ this morning… I'd have to say yes, you've been incredibly awful to her."

Zabini's mention of the previous night changed the subject of their conversation entirely-

"I was an asshole last night… to both of you." Malfoy paused, only their footsteps against the stone floors kept his pause from becoming an uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry, Blaise."

"It's fine, mate. We completely invaded your privacy. I was told we were going to see how you were…and once we got in Parkinson went straight to your desk. She's a conniving bitch at times, which would scare off the average male… strangely, I like her even more because of it." Zabini gave an exaggerated shudder.

"And you claim my relationship with Granger is fucked up…"

"_Moving on_, I really apologize for viewing those memories. And Pansy… she really isn't too horrible. She extracted us from the shower scene before any nudity was shown. It doesn't justify what we did, but you need to know we didn't betray you as much as you thought we did."

Zabini, from the corner of his eyes, saw Malfoy nod in response to his testimony. They silently agreed the subject no longer needed further discussion.

"Oh, before I forget, I'd like to request a memory I'd like to hear, if I may."

Knowing what Zabini was going to say next, Malfoy sighed noisily. "Go on."

"I'd like to hear about the introduction of your girlfriend to your beloved mother, I find it fitting, considering the article published about you today."

The blond briefly glanced at his wristwatch, they had more or less forty-five minutes left until classes started. Entering an empty Infirmary, Malfoy decided to grant his housemate the request. They seated themselves on snug armchairs usually reserved for parents or students waiting to see a patient.

"I can't acquiesce to your request just yet. You need to hear the prologue. There was huge obstacle I had to overcome before Hermione could step a foot onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor, in turn meet my mother…

"…I had to meet her parents first."

**Flashback:**

A platinum blond Slytherin sat in a sleek black Malfoy limo, his mother took a liking to muggle vehicles, but naturally Lady Malfoy had all their muggle vehicles modified with magical enchantments. The Malfoy limo had the same capabilities as the Knights Bus, able to weave through traffic unnoticed in amazing speeds.

After getting off the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy hesitantly stepped through what seemed to be solid wall, as Hermione instructed him to do. Realizing he did not collide with the wall like he feared, he then found himself in Kings Cross Station, a muggle train station. His girlfriend could not coach him through the experience, she met with her parents after exiting the train. How would it look to their schoolmates if Draco Malfoy left with the non-magical Grangers and their mudblood daughter. Instead of meeting with his mother, as he had done the past five years upon returning from Hogwarts, Malfoy was taking a limo to a French muggle restaurant in downtown London called Antoinette's. He was having lunch with the Grangers. Before heading home to Malfoy Manor with Hermione, the Slytherin was spending the weekend with his girlfriend at her family's home in the London district of Maida Vale.

Three weeks before the Hogwarts school year concluded, Malfoy invited Hermione to spend the summer holidays with him at Malfoy Manor. He learned for the past three summers, Hermione's parents traveled to underdeveloped countries for two months to help the less fortunate who could not afford to maintain their dental hygiene. The Grangers traveled with an entire medical team, some were dentists like the Grangers but most were various types of specialized physicians, all devoting their summer to helping those seeking medical attention they could not afford. Hermione told Malfoy she would be spending her summer with the Weasleys and Harry at the Burrow while her parents were away.

_It was nearly two o'clock in the morning. Taking a break from studying for their finals, Malfoy and Hermione found themselevs alone in the Prefects study lounge, discussing their plans for the summer holidays. _

"_An entire summer with Potter and the Weasel in that shithole the Weasleys call home, sounds fantastic." Malfoy was absently massaging her thigh under the table, he was leaned back on his chair, watching her continue to study even after she suggested taking a break._

_Hermione openly rolled her hazel eyes at his remark. "I suppose you've got an extravagant vacation planned for the holidays then?"_

"_I'd much rather spend the summer with you at the manor, really…" _

Hermione accepted her boyfriend's invitation, of course. And after much persuasion from Hermione's mother and dozens of letters from Hermione for three days straight, her father finally allowed his only beloved daughter to spend the summer with Malfoy. **But **under one condition, he wanted to meet Malfoy first. And upon learning her husband's one condition, Jacqueline Granger decided it was only appropriate to have Hermione ask Malfoy to stay overnight, in order to really acquaint himself with Jacqueline and Alexander.

Standing up, one of the enchantments on the Malfoy limo was its added roominess, occupants as tall as Malfoy could stand comfortably inside, he studied his attractive reflection in the full-length mirror he summoned. He had changed into the outfit Hermione selected for him, she had transfigured some of his robes into muggle clothes. Clad in a fitted sapphire collared top paired with typical not too tight muggle jeans, Malfoy had to admit he was a good-looking muggle. He then frowned slightly, knowing the ride to Antoinette's was nearly over. Malfoy was actually nervous, understandably. His past relationships never reached the level he and Hermione were on, thus he's never had to "meet the parents" before.

Soon enough, the limo stopped. His chauffeur then opened the door for him, Malfoy stepped out. "Make yourself scarce, you'll know when I'm finished here." He told the driver as he took in the sights of downtown London. Crowds of people were moving all directions on the sidewalks, vehicles of all sorts congested the streets, the amount of high-priced shops and boutiques seemed endless. And in the middle of all the madness was the restaurant known as Antoinette's.

Walking in, Malfoy was greeted by a sleekly dressed woman, he found her rather attractive for a muggle. "Welcome to Antoinette's, sir. Do you have a reservation?" The restaurant reminded Malfoy of his family's estate in France, very inviting yet sophisticated as well.

"I'm meeting a party here listed under Granger, I believe." He watched her saunter over to a large dark wooden counter.

"Granger… ah, yes. Follow me."

As he walked through the restaurant, Malfoy noticed he was receiving a great amount of attention from the female diners, he smirked.

'_It doesn't matter if a woman is a witch, a muggle, or if she's part man… they're all desperately attracted to me.'_

Just as he finished the thought, he caught sight of his girlfriend, animatedly conversing with two understandably unfamiliar people sitting across her.

Shortly, they reached the table. The hostess cleared her throat lightly, politely announcing her presence. All three Grangers looked up.

"The last member of your party has arrived!" Smiling, the hostess then left.

"Draco!" Hermione stood, eager to greet him. Reluctantly, he bent down slightly, giving her a brief but thorough kiss. They both inwardly relished their freedom to act as a couple in public.

"Mum, Daddy…" She laced her hands with his, pulling him down to sit on the chair beside hers. "This is my boyfriend Draco Malfoy."

Sitting, he gave them an uneasy smile as he respectfully shook their hands.

"I'm Jacqueline Granger." She smiled warmly. Jacqueline was gorgeous for a woman in her mid-forties, Hermione had her smile.

"Alexander Granger, pleasure to meet you, son."

**End Flashback.**

"After our meals arrived, the interrogation began-" Malfoy was interrupted.

"Mr. Malfoy! Let's have that checkup I promised you, I apologize for being late." Madame Pomfrey had returned to the Infirmary; both completely engrossed with the story, neither Malfoy or Zabini had taken notice. She turned to the other Slytherin. "Go to class, Mr. Zabini."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" He threw his arms into the air as he stood, wishing badly to hear the rest of the story.

"Guess you'll have to wait for the rest!" Malfoy called after him as he left.

* * *

Guess you guys will have to wait for the rest too! What'd you think? Review please! I'll try to update again before Christmas! 


	10. Transformed

:) my readers/reviewers, you all make me so happy. Keep reviewing, that's all the I ask!

My last chapter for 2007! Merry Christmas!! I'll update sometime during January. (Whoa. I actually updated before Christmas like I promised! So reward me with lots of reviews!)

Warning: this chapter is different than the other chapters, more serious.

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

Hermione gladly fell onto the large Gryffindor spirited bed she rarely used, the Head Girl was squeezing in a bit of rest before conducting a Prefects meeting. Amused, Hermione realized she couldn't recall when she last spent a night in her Heads Suite. Even when Malfoy's bed lacked his presence due to his injuries, his girlfriend still claimed her usual spot. At the thought of Malfoy, her eyes traveled to nightstand. Several picture frames were immaculately arranged beside her lamp, frames housing moving pictures of herself, Ron, Harry and her other housemates. Although the largest frame held a muggle photograph from the day her parents met Malfoy, this photograph was most treasured by Hermione. The picture was taken at Antoinette's, the couples posed almost identically. The Granger women were leaning against the men (all facing the camera), Mr. Granger had an arm tightly embracing his wife's shoulder while Malfoy had a loose arm draped over Hermione's shoulder- she loved the picture because _everyone_ was smiling, including her boyfriend. Knowing the Heads Suites were charmed to allow only the Head Boy and Head Girl entrance, she freely displayed the picture of Malfoy with her family.

The conversation Malfoy had with her parents after the picture taking ceased was one Hermione could never forget…

**Flashback:**

Across the table her parents were making a poor effort to keep their discussion quiet. Hermione absently prodded her chocolate soufflé with her fork as she listened, knowing her father was preparing to end the series of light conversation topics her mother had chosen throughout their meal.

"Sweetheart, your attempts to keep me quiet during this luncheon have been blatantly obvious. Honestly, you've jumped on every subject the boy's brought up, no matter how dull, to keep you talking and me silent!"

"Utterly a coincidence, Daddy…" She sarcastically muttered under her breath.

Under the table, he placed a hand on her thigh nearest to him, briefly squeezing it with a faint smirk. "Relax, Granger."

"But if she had just followed the list of conversation topics I prepared for today instead of 'jumping on every subject' you brought up, he would have been oblivious to her blatant attempts!" Hermione grumbled childishly.

He chuckled openly in response. "You prepared a list?"

Just as Hermione prepared to snap at her boyfriend, Alexander Granger cleared his throat loudly, wordlessly requesting their attention, while he unfolded a piece of paper.

"Now Draco my boy, I've brought a list of predetermined questions that at once came to my mind when I was informed of your relationship with my daughter."

"I see you take after your father." Malfoy whispered, amused, before nodding at Alexander to begin dictating the list to him. "I'm very intrigued."

His eyes scanned the list briefly before looking up. "How long have you been interested in my daughter?"

"I've always been _interested_ in her. Interested in taunting her relentlessly for five years, interested in being the victor in our rivalry to be the best in our class, interested in her flaws… ultimately my interest in her was anything but romantic until sixth year."

"I appreciate your honesty." Alexander gave a small smile before moving on. "Some of these questions are a bit trivial, I apologize in advance. Have you gotten any unusual parts of your body pierced?"

"No he certainly has not." Hermione confidently answered for him.

Jacqueline Granger eyed her daughter mischievously and Hermione looked away with a slight blush- her father saw this. He quickly caught the implication his wife had made with her eyes. Hermione and her mother maintained a very close relationship even while she was away at Hogwarts, they wrote to one another at least once a week. Needless to say, Jacqueline was up to date on the _intensity _of her daughter's relationship with Malfoy.

Gulping loudly, Alexander continued, trying to disregard the exchange he just witnessed. "Tattoos?"

She knew tattoos were not a popular trend in the Wizarding World. Hermione also knew her boyfriend preferred to have his "immaculate" body unmarked; with a smile she recalled the evening Malfoy recited the types of markings he allowed.

"_Bruises from a __**victorious **__Quidditch match. Hickies, from you, of course. And scratches on my back produced by your perfectly manicured nails. __**Only**__ while we're having sex when you're completely overwhelmed by pleasure."_

The ongoing silence brought her mind back to the conversation, she realized Malfoy had yet to respond to her father's question.

"I suppose I do, sir."

Silver and hazel, their eyes met at once. With horror she watched him caress his left forearm. "I've cast a concealing charm on it. It's a small skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue, it'll grow to be much larger and much darker than it is now once I've turned eighteen."

"…how lovely. Sounds creative!" Jacqueline complimented slowly.

Hermione stood abruptly. "Excuse me." She stormed off, looking back only to send apologetic glances at her parents.

"Granger!" He was following her with an impressive pace, frantically her tear blurred eyes searched for an escape from Malfoy. Spotting the ladies room to her right, without hesitance Hermione entered. Almost immediately she found herself locked in one of the stalls of the elegant ladies room of Antoinette's. Miserably, sat on the toilet's edge, Hermione watched her tears as they fell on the tile flooring.

Someone had entered the bathroom rather loudly, she absently noted as she blew her nose.

"Sir!" Came an offended squeal of a woman. "This is the _ladies_ room!"

This statement caught her attention.

"Oh piss off hag."

Hermione recognized the irritated drawl…

"Chivalry is quite dead, you've certainly proven that to me young man!" Hermione then heard angry stilettos pounding against the tile flooring, next the slamming of the bathroom door behind her.

"All right, Granger. I've rid the premises of any innocent bystanders that may get injured during the colossal battle we're about to have."

"Battle you say? A Death Eater in training against an aspiring Order member… the way it was intended between us." She finished with an uncontrolled sob.

A Death Eater in training was marked with a miniature Dark Mark until their eighteenth birthday; formal initiations took place when the trainee turned eighteen. The miniature mark on their left forearm then became the true Dark Mark with a spell cast by Lord Voldemort, only if he found the trainee worthy, of course.

"Oh good one, baby." Malfoy snarled sarcastically.

Hermione cried noisily, unable to control herself. "Draco…" She began through sobs. "We… our relationship… cannot work. We're on opposing sides…"

There was a light knocking on her stall door. "Stop crying."

"You're training to become DEATH EATER, Draco. I'm sorry if I'm getting emotional over it." Round three of her tears began, actually speaking the ugly truth helped her realize the significance of her words.

"I've got to prove my loyalty to the _winning _side."

"We've got differing views on which side is the winning side, Malfoy." Hermione growled with unadulterated resentment.

She heard him sigh deeply. "Not at all, Hermione. We're fighting for the same cause…"

Sniffing quietly, Hermione furrowed her sculpted eyebrows. "I suppose… we're both fighting to win, to stay alive. But one side has to fall in defeat."

"I'm on your side, Hermione. If you fall in defeat, I must as well. "

"What?" Her heart was suddenly pounding wildly.

Malfoy did not reply at once, there was a tense pause. "Open the door." He finally demanded in a whisper.

Biting her lip, Hermione reached for the lock with a shaking hand. Slowly, the stall door opened, revealing her boyfriend leant against the bathroom wall across her stall.

Pushing off the wall, Malfoy reluctantly approached her, crouching to meet her gaze. "I've been working with the Order since my father's death."

Hermione was unsure how to react, she was experiencing a surge of numerous emotions. Understandably, happiness, relief, and astonishment were dominating everything else. She wrapped her slim arms around his neck, allowing herself to cry against him, the tears were falling for her relief and happiness.

"It would have been appreciated if you told me that _before _mentioning that awful Dark Mark you're branded with." Came her muffled complaint, her speech impeded by his shoulder.

"You think I _planned _to have this conversation with you today, Granger?"

Hermione pulled away from him slightly, just enough to be able to meet his eyes properly. "Go on."

She felt him shrug loosely.

"That old fool Dumbledore told me I'd know when the time was right to reveal my position in this war to those close to me. Today, as I ate my superb meal, I suddenly realized why it's taken me ages to tell you about my involvement with the Order… Although we've been together three months, I haven't been considering you as someone I'm close to. And you are, Hermione, you really are. I just needed to admit that to myself. I imagine I'm just not entirely adjusted to having a serious girlfriend.

"Well, when your father asked me if I had any tattoos, I decided to begin the process of telling you."

Nodding softly, Hermione moved closer to him, smiling as their lips met.

…several minutes later, she found herself pinned against the stall door as a topless Malfoy locked its door.

"This isn't sanitary." Hermione moaned, his lips overwhelming her neck with tiny kisses.

"Neither was having sex in the changing room showers." He reminded her in a husky whisper as she unfastened his belt.

**000**

….Alexander Granger nearly choked on a chocolate truffle when the young couple returned to the table thirty minutes after their episode in the bathroom stall. Their slightly tousled appearances completely exposed Malfoy and Hermione's afternoon _frolic _in the ladies room.

**End Flashback. **

Hermione and Malfoy relived the memory of their lunch with Mr. and Mrs. Granger together before she fell asleep in his arms the previous evening. The issue of informing Zabini of Malfoy's involvement with the Order was then brought up and discussed. He knew Zabini had earned the right to know before Hermione, although Malfoy did not respect that. Very recently the best mates had grown much closer to one another, the Head Boy understood he needed to allow Zabini to know the remaining secret Malfoy kept from him.

**000**

Floating sixty feet above the lake on his Titan 3100, Malfoy glanced down at Zabini twenty feet below him. Before heading to the Prefects meeting he was leading with the Head Girl, Malfoy decided to unwind a bit, inviting his best mate on a fly around the Hogwarts grounds. Of course Zabini wanted to continue hearing about Malfoy's stay with the Grangers, but there would be none of that yet.

Balthazar and Esmeralda Zabini, parents of Blaise Zabini, were _mysteriously _murdered when their son was merely nine years old. The orphaned Slytherin spat on the thought of supporting either Voldemort or Dumbledore, being one of the few who knew the cause behind the deaths of his parents. Death Eaters infiltrated the Zabini Estate on a January evening, killing Balthazar and Esmeralda as they slept; young Blaise was sleeping over at the Malfoy Manor. After the fall of Voldemort, the Zabinis no longer openly supported the Dark Lord nor did they anticipate his return, this did not sit well with some of the grief-stricken Death Eaters. Both Malfoy and Zabini were aware Lucius was among the Death Eaters present at the Zabini Estate, but they never spoke of it. It was rumored the Order of the Phoenix had known about the ambush, informed by their underground source. If the rumor was true, obviously Dumbledore sent not even one person to help the unknowing couple. Out of respect for his dead parents, Zabini decided not to support anyone as the war approached, both sides watched his parents die. In return for their futility, he would simply watch both sides suffer deaths.

Retrieving his wand from his cloak pocket, Malfoy then expertly waved it as he muttered the counter spell to his concealing charm. With disgust he watched his little Dark Mark appear on his left forearm.

"Blaise. Come here."

Zabini lazily rose beside him on his Titan 2500. "Hurray, you're continuing with the- Oh fuck…" His dark eyes sighted the stain on Malfoy's pale forearm. "My best mate, the Death Eater." He paused. "My best mate, the soon to be SINGLE Death Eater. I'm assuming Granger doesn't know."

Malfoy smirked. "She knows. I don't know why you're so surprised. You've got connections in the Death Eater network. I've been training for nearly a year now."

"You know I try not to believe rumors…"

Sighing Malfoy met Zabini's intense gaze. "Here's a rumor you'll never hear. I've been enduring Voldemort's fucked up training methods to prove myself worthy of becoming a spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

Zabini literally almost fell off his broom. "Bloody hell…Malfoy a spy for the Order… Holy fucking shit-" He exhaled deeply. "All right, go on and explain this to me, maybe I'll comprehend it better if I hear details."

"It began when my father died. Everyone assumed I left to be with my mother but the truth is I was taken to the Order headquarters. I really did plan to be with Mother but Dumbledore asked me to see him before I left. He told me since my father is gone, I can finally protect my mother. The old fool then guaranteed my mother's safety. A guarantee Voldemort would never give to me."

Suddenly Zabini understood, Malfoy treasured his mother, her safety was always her son's first priority.

"It was no secret to anyone Voldemort was expecting me to carry on the family business. Voldemort's expectations of me becoming a Death Eater combined with his trust in an Order spy dangerously wavering, it just made sense to Dumbledore that I train to become a spy. Surviving my training to become a Death Eater is the training I need as a spy. Voldemort uses Legilimency on us trainees every chance he can. So I practice Occlumency every chance I can… One fuck up, Blaise…and he can get in my head, quickly learning I'm betraying him and where my loyalty truly lies… He'd obtain the knowledge of my relationship with Hermione…

"I've got to earn Voldemort's trust, I've got to earn the Order's trust… I don't secure my position as a spy until my initiation as a Death Eater."

There was a tense silence; Malfoy honestly did not know how Zabini was going to react to his confession.

"Quite a colossal declaration, my friend. But truthfully your relationship with Granger stunned me just a tad more than this one. After hearing that, nothing could really shock me anymore."

The best mates shared amused grins.

"And you're pretty fortunate. I never told you but I'm exceptionally skilled in the art of both Legilimency _and_ Occlumency." Zabini continued. "I'd be honored to train you, mate."

"The Order could certainly find you useful." Malfoy flew around him slowly, observing him with a smirk.

"Oh they've got you recruiting members too?"

"Fuck off, Zabini."

They flew in each other's company for twenty more minutes before Malfoy hurriedly said goodbye to his best friend, he was late for the Perfects meeting.

**000**

Malfoy watched the Head Girl erase the few notes she had written on the lone blackboard hung on a wall of the Prefects lounge. The planning for the Hogwarts annual Winter Ball had been launched during the meeting, both Head Boy and Head Girl assigned the Prefects their tasks for the ball. The remaining crowd of Prefects made their exit, leaving Hermione and Malfoy alone.

Yawning, Malfoy expertly flicked his wand. The blackboard was spotless at once. Dropping the eraser, Hermione walked to the Heads table (where they both sat facing the other Prefects during meetings), smiling.

"Thank you."

He kissed her quickly in response. "You forget you're a witch sometimes, Granger." Malfoy pulled away with a slight grin, shoving his belongings into his bag.

Shrugging, she too packed up her belongings. "How was the day of the Wizarding World's most eligible underage bachelor?"

Hermione laughed loudly, seeing him openly roll his silver eyes. "I see you read that rubbish as well." Malfoy paused. "The article's blatant mentioning of our prospective future together shouldn't frighten you."

She slung her bag over her shoulder before replying. "Why? Is it because you're frightened enough for the both of us?"

"If there's a future for me to be frightened about. There can't be a future between us if I don't survive the war, Hermione."

"Or if I don't survive." She added weakly.

A solemn quiet filled the room, Hermione appreciated her boyfriend for not denying her statement. For his denial would have been empty, offering her no comfort. She placed her hand on his hand laying limp on the table.

"I've got training tonight. Don't wait up, I'm serious." Malfoy laced their hands briefly before letting go, walking towards the exit. "I'm staying in the dungeons when I return. I'm not training for the Order tonight, Granger. You don't need to see me bloodied and bruised."

Hermione at once went to him, embracing him tightly. "I love you."

Malfoy kissed her deeply in response, replying to her statement with his tongue.

Their contact abruptly ended.

"Snape's waiting." His lips brushed her forehead before he made his exit.

**000**

It was two in the morning.

Severus Snape aided a slightly injured Malfoy climb down the few steps the Slytherin Common Room had.

"I'm fine, really." Malfoy groaned as he freed himself of his professor's hold, walking to the dark emerald leather sofa on his own.

"He used the Cruciatus Curse on you a number of times… Yaxley kicked you so hard you were unconscious for nearly thirty minutes, boy!"

At the mention of being kicked, Malfoy touched his pounding head. It was drenched, he just assumed it was sweat. He felt a wound above his eyebrow, bringing his hand down, Malfoy saw it was covered with blood.

"Fuck, I'm bleeding." He eyed the Head of Slytherin annoyed. "A healing spell of some sort would be nice right now."

"I'll brew you a potion for the affects the Cruciatus may have on your body, otherwise you'll be so sore later on today that the simple task of breathing will be difficult. As for the wound on your forehead, I suggest that you clean it up nicely. I'll be back later on this morning with the potion. Extract your memories from tonight for the Headmaster. He'll be wanting to see everything for himself in addition to hearing you give a detailed recap of the nights events tomorrow."

As Snape's footsteps faded, Malfoy retrieved his wand and a glass vial from his cloak pocket as he laid back on the sofa. Closing his eyes tightly, he pressed his wand to his temple, extracting the memories of the evening and placing them into the glass vial. With a loud groan he then stood up, shoving both wand and vial back into his cloak pocket. Unsteadily, Malfoy began the difficult task of walking to the boys' dormitories. He needed to use their lavatory to clean himself up.

Eventually he made it to the lavatory Zabini shared with a few other male seventh year Slytherins. Malfoy wobbled through their dormitory, all were asleep. The pain he experienced earlier from the Cruciatus Curse was causing extreme soreness all over his body, just as Snape told him. Malfoy eyed his beaten reflection, dried blood painted the right side of his forehead. The source of the blood was a gash the size of his index finger above his eyebrow. Training with the Death Eaters was always tough, their brutality towards Malfoy intensified, knowing his eighteenth birthday was drawing closer. After washing up and caring for his wound, he headed back to the Common Room.

Zabini was seated on an armchair facing the dark emerald leather sofa. "Did we schedule a sleepover I've forgotten about?" He questioned yawning.

The Head Boy gingerly seated himself on the sofa. "Not at all. How did you know I was here?"

"You treading about my dormitory wasn't exactly quiet, mate. I figured you'd be sleeping out here if you were planning to stay the night." He eyed Malfoy carefully. "Is that cut from Granger?" Zabini whispered through a chuckle. "Makes sense why you're spending the night here, you two got into another row, didn't you?"

Malfoy lazily cast a silencing charm on the Common Room to ensure _no one_ unintentionally walked into their conversation. "Nice deduction, but you're wrong." He sighed loudly when he saw the look of confusion manifest itself on Zabinis face. "I had my weekly training session with the Death Eaters. Honestly, I'd rather not speak of it anymore, if you don't mind mate."

Zabini gave a weak nod of acceptance. "Let's continue our talk about your weekend with the Grangers!"

Before replying, Malfoy made himself comfortable as he thought of which portion of the visit was an appropriate continuing point.

He retold the bit about telling Hermione about his involvement with the Order…

…Zabini was grabbing his toned stomach from the pain he felt due to the amount laughter the last bit of Malfoy's story solicited from him.

"The scent of sex was probably overwhelming. And the poor bloke smelled it!"

Malfoy couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Hermione insisted we both looked fine as she pulled me out of the bathroom."

"I repeat, your appearances didn't give you away, it was the smell of sex."

Once their laughter subsided, Malfoy went on.

" We all headed to the Granger home…"

**Flashback:**

Sometime during the drive to Hermione's home, Malfoy fell asleep. When he finally woke, all the occupants of the vehicle, other than him, were exiting simultaneously. Before exiting himself, he surveyed the large residence located on the highly desirable residential address of Biddulph Road, situated at the heart of leafy Maida Vale. The home stood high with three floors; a small iron gate and a brick walkway brought him to the simple front door of the inviting home.

"This home has been in my father's family for years." Hermione was waiting for him at the partially open front door; Alexander and Jacqueline already inside.

"It's superb." Malfoy replied, entering the Granger residence with his trunk dragging behind him.

The foyer held two paths; an arched entry led to the remainder of the main floor while an impressive staircase led to the second level.

"Leave your trunk there. I'll have Daddy help you carry it upstairs later."

After placing his trunk down as Hermione instructed, they then walked through a large open living room which flowed into their formal dining area. Two caramel couches, complemented nicely by the wooden flooring of the home, were situated around a fireplace. Above the mantle of the fireplace was a flat object, what Malfoy supposed was a painting. Amused, Hermione noticed the intrigue in Malfoy's eyes.

"That's a television."

In response, Malfoy shook his head, confused. "A television is supposedly a cube-like apparatus, from what I've heard."

Hermione gave a hearty laugh, wrapping her slender arms around his waist. "Yes, older models. Muggle technology has allowed the creation of flatter, rectangular televisions. Plasmas, they're called plasma screens. My parents just had to have one. We'll have to watch a movie tonight so you can be fascinated…

"Unless you want to engage in a different activity tonight. " She finished in a whisper.

He smirked down at his girlfriend, returning her embrace. "The alternate activity you're suggesting will result in your father hating me a bit more than he already does."

"Nonsense, he doesn't hate you. Since when did Draco Malfoy care about someone hating him anyhow?"

"Unfortunately since I started seeing Hermione Granger."

Smiling broadly, she stood on the tips of her toes, eager to reward him for this reply…

"Draco boy!"

The couple immediately separated at the sound of Alexander Granger's voice.

Briefly observing him, Malfoy noticed the older man looked rather uncomfortable. Shaken by witnessing the affection he and Hermione were showing to one another, perhaps.

"Jackie's finally happy with the arrangement of our guest bedroom. The woman rushed up the stairs once we got home to make certain it was perfect. I'd be happy to show you to the room, I'm sure you're eager to situate yourself."

"I appreciate that, Alexander."

"Well off we go then."

**000**

Wordlessly, the pair hauled his Hogwarts trunk up the exquisite staircase, heading to the guest bedroom.

"The third floor comprises of Hermione's room and the guest bedroom." Alexander told Malfoy as they bypassed the second floor, continuing to climb the second flight of stairs. Having reached the third and final level of the Granger home, Alexander placed the trunk down. Malfoy then followed his actions.

Cursing inwardly, the younger of the two men realized his elder was preparing to have a talk with him.

"Draco…let's not pretend you won't be sleeping in Hermione's bedroom tonight, okay? Originally, we had you sleeping in the guest bedroom on the first floor… but two floors will not separate you from one another, I've realized it." Malfoy could not read Alexander's emotion.

"Alexander, so far you've been exposed only to the physical side of my relationship with your daughter… and I've got to admit it's strange saying that. With my previous girlfriends, there wasn't another side to the relationship, usually we were just a physical couple. No depth, just physicality. With Hermione, yes, the physical attraction is undeniable but I assure you our relationship is hardly this physical at Hogwarts. Today we found the first opportunity we've had to freely show affection for one another." He paused, chuckling. "Honestly, I'm not one to flaunt my relationship in public and I'll acknowledge our behavior at the restaurant was unacceptable. If it means anything, we nearly broke up due to a misunderstanding. Although our reaction to not ending the relationship was improper."

His girlfriend's father studied him skeptically for what felt like an eternity, but Alexander finally nodded with a nearly undetectable smile.

"I'm grateful for your honesty and respect, Draco. I've just got to adjust to the idea of my baby having a boyfriend. Oh, I don't think I've told you how much Jackie and I appreciate your visit with us, the gesture means a lot to us." He then proceeded to give the young man a brief hug, an action Malfoy was not accustomed to; his own father never displayed such affection to him. The simple gesture affected Malfoy greatly…

…while his girlfriend laid alone in her bed, waiting for him to join her, Malfoy remained in the guestroom out of respect for Alexander.

**End Flashback.**

"My visit to the Granger residence allowed me to form fantastic relationships with her parents, most especially with Alexander. For the last seven months he's been a father to me. Because of him I learned to respect my male elders, not fear them."

"Fuck, Malfoy. I never thought I'd hear myself say this but you make me want to be a better man. Who you were to me yesterday and who you are to me now… a boy to a man… a Death Eater to a member of the Order… an equal to an inspiration…

"…did you mean it when you said the Order could find my skills useful?"

* * *

Ahh. Different tone for the chapter huh? It was time that I introduce some seriousness to this fic. ;-) don't worry. The story is still going to be happy, this is not a dark fic. I just wanted to remind everyone Voldemort is still living and yes, there is still a war. 

REVIEW PLEASE!


	11. Etiquette

Happy 2008! Hope all of you had wonderful holidays! Thanks to all those who reviewed! Ten has been by far my favorite chapter. Continue reviewing!

Eh, been debating with the thought for weeks now, and I've decided to ignore HBP- Dumbledore will remain alive in my fic. Hope that doesn't bug anyone too much. I just can't really imagine anyone else playing the role I need Dumbledore to play for my plot. Happy reading!

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

**December.**

"Hermione?" Came the voice of Ginevra Weasley, muffled by the drawn curtains of Hermione's four poster bed. The two lady Gryffindors had been sharing an inexpensive suite at the Leaky Cauldron, yes suites surprisingly exist at the shabby establishment. Also sharing a suite were Ron and Harry, across the hall from the girls. The four Gryffindors were spending a few days at the Leaky Cauldron to finish up their Christmas shopping at Diagon Alley.

At the sound of the young girl's voice, Hermione woke abruptly. She attempted to sit up but a pale, heavy arm kept her from doing so.

Ginny attempted to tug Hermione's curtains open-

"Your curtains are charmed shut?" The younger girl questioned curiously.

"Have you forgotten where we spent the night? Charming my curtains shut was a clever precaution!" There was no reply- before Hermione could succumb to her irritation, she suddenly realized the silencing spell cast the previous night was still in use. Locating her wand (shoved under her pillow), she muttered the counter spell before repeating herself.

"I don't exactly feel _safe_ when I sleep here, Ginny. Charming my curtains shut was a clever precaution!"

She heard the redhead giggle. "Not too clever! While you're undoing the spell on your curtains, I'll be happily skipping to the bathroom."

Hermione groaned loudly. "GINNY! You were first to shower yesterday morning!" She then noticed him beginning to stir, his eyes opened. Quickly clamping his mouth with her hand, Hermione sighed. "Fine, Gin, go ahead! Take the bathroom first _again_." She listened to Ginny's footsteps against the worn wooden floors of their suite, then the bathroom door shutting softly before exhaling deeply as she withdrew her hand from him.

Yawning, a topless Malfoy waved his wand lazily. "_Silencio." _Once again, the silencing charm was cast on her entire bed, keeping their conversation within the drawn curtains.

Frantically, Hermione searched for his clothes under her sheets. "You swore you wouldn't fall asleep." She hissed, throwing a pair of boxers onto his lap.

He smirked at her, sitting up. "Blame yourself, Granger. You wore me out last night." Another article of clothing was thrown onto his lap.

'Coincidentally', Malfoy and Zabini were staying at the glamorous Hotel Illyria, a grand establishment positioned across Gringotts. Staying at the Leaky Cauldron simply revolted the pampered Purebloods. Shopping for gifts was also their intention, but of course Malfoy's top priority was seeing his girlfriend (the holidays having separated them). He and his best mate arrived at Diagon Alley late the previous night, at two-thirty in the morning the devious Slytherin snuck into Hermione's suite while her oblivious roommate slept. Malfoy intended to leave once Hermione fell asleep but he too found sleep, exhausted from their 'reunion'.

"You've got to Floo back to your hotel quickly." She demanded softly, not really wanting to mean it. "Hey! Those are mine!"

He had shoved a pair of lacey knickers, which he had hastily removed and threw over his shoulder the previous night, into a pocket of his pants. "And you're mine, so these knickers belong to me too." Malfoy reasoned as he pulled his wrinkled robes on.

Soon she was walking a fully dressed Malfoy to the hideous fireplace of her suite, though not without a cautious glance over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door.

"Have her asleep by two, alright? Expect me again at two-thirty." He then turned to her, kissing her too briefly, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder.

"HOTEL ILLYRIA!"

**000**

Draco Malfoy trudged on the once visible cobblestone pathway of Diagon Alley, now buried under many layers of snow. The streets were packed with many wizards and witches, all intent on finishing their Christmas shopping.

Upon arriving at his large Royal Suite at Illyria, Malfoy showered, answered Zabini's prying questions about his night while he dressed, and had breakfast. Ten minutes following his splendid breakfast, he found himself walking the streets of Diagon Alley with his best mate.

"Where to?" He heard Zabini ask loudly from his left, the wind was vicious, howling madly as the snow fell.

Ignoring the question, Malfoy squinted through the thin sheet of white the snow created as it fell. His best mate managed to follow his eyes-

"-Bebe's Bejeweled?" The confused Slytherin muttered to himself as he followed Malfoy to the boutique. The privately owned shop opened at the start of the year, steadily its reputation grew. At Hogwarts, Malfoy overheard young ladies gushing about the jewelry their boyfriends purchased at Bebe's Bejeweled. The said boyfriends boasted about the rewards their purchases earned them in the Quidditch changing rooms.

A charming bell chimed when Malfoy roughly pushed the door open, eager to leave the harsh cold. He then growled, eyeing the enchanted floating bell menacingly. The cunning Slytherin had adamantly _planned_ to avoid drawing any attention to himself during this excursion, attention he and Zabini suddenly received when the bell announced their presence. Recently the Wizarding community had taken an odd interest in his purchases, undoubtedly because he had a girlfriend. Certainly everyone figured he was not visiting Bebe's Bejeweled to purchase some jewelry for himself!

Thirty or so shoppers were scattered about the large shop, excitedly peering down at glass display cases. The owner, Belinda Hathaway, was a Muggle-born. She fashioned her boutique to mirror a typical, but also sophisticated, Muggle jewelry store- with a witch's touch of magic, of course. The boutique was lit softly with several floating candle chandeliers. The main display area had a large circular glass jewelry case, which slowly rotated, the sellers stood in the middle ready to assist. Instead of walking around to view the jewelry, buyers simply stood as the case slowly revolved. The rotation stopped of course when a customer asked to view a piece. Smaller, less extravagant cases were surrounding the main display area.

Approaching the revolving glass display case, Zabini beside him, Malfoy surveyed the plain necklaces, rings, and bracelets- he was clearly unimpressed.

"Hello. Welcome to Bebe's Bejeweled. I'm Belinda." Came a soothing voice.

Malfoy distractedly glanced down, a woman of about 5'3 stood before him with a serene smile, offering a small hand. She was dressed in pale blue robes, her strawberry blonde hair pulled into a tight bun.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." They briefly shook hands. "This is my friend, Blaise Zabini." Belinda shook his hand as well.

"Nice to meet you both! Are either of you wishing to purchase something for a special lady?" She watched Zabini give his friend a sly grin.

"My _mother_. I'd like to purchase a ring for her. Money is no object."

**000**

"Hermione!" Ginny gasped enviously as her friend acquired a gorgeous white and emerald gown with a simple spell. Twilfit & Tatting's had the pricey gowns and dress robes elegantly levitating above the racks of their 'affordable items', which were still rather expensive.

Hermione and her parents were invited to spend Christmas Eve weekend, being that Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday, at the Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy planned an elegant formal dinner party on the eve of Christmas. Unlike previous Malfoy gatherings, the guest list for dinner party was small, consisting only of herself, her son, the Grangers, and Blaise Zabini.

Malfoy had instructed his girlfriend to purchase a nice gown for the occasion, a requirement of Narcissa's. It was, after all, a **formal **dinner party. He also suggested that she shop at Twilfit & Tatting's, an upscale clothing shop.

"Oh Ginny. It's so silky…" Hermione whispered as the gown fell into her awaiting arms.

Ginny, a pretty sixth year, obviously Ron's younger sister and Hermione's closest female confidant, gave the brunette a slight push towards the fitting rooms. "Go on, try it on before I take for myself! Although I wouldn't know what to do with it… Do you even know why you're buying a gown?"

Hermione laughed cheerfully. "Ginny, I told you! Yes, I've got a purpose for purchasing a gown. My parent's clinic is holding a holiday gala and we're required to wear formal attire." She lied so smoothly.

"Oh, right."

"Be a doll, Ginny, watch my things!" She requested, shoving her large dark brown purse and a small golden shopping bag into the redhead's arms.

Sighing loudly, Ginny seated herself on a white, plush, sofa just outside the fitting rooms, knowing Hermione would model the dress for her. The shopping bag on her lap glimmered enticingly. Earlier, before heading to Twilfit & Tatting's, Hermione made an unscheduled (not to mention unexplained) stop at the recently popular shop Bebe's Bejeweled. The two Gryffindors stayed only a moment, Hermione simply retrieved the small golden shopping bag from a marble counter at the back of the store. Her friend's secrecy and refusal to reveal what her purchase was greatly heightened the redhead's curiosity .

"She said it's for someone important to her…" Ginny muttered to herself as she reached into the bag. She then held a square velvet box, certainly a bit larger than the jewelry boxes designed for engagement rings though. Biting her lip, slightly ashamed at her nosiness, Ginny opened it.

Inlayed between folds of velvet was a black diamond pendant, the number three.

"Huh?" She stared dumbly at the pendant, it was not a conventional pendant one would expect to see. Anything but a bloody _number _would have made sense to her! It was a number, for Merlin's sake! Carefully, knowing the piece of jewelry was expensive, Ginny pulled the pendant out of the folds of velvet. She examined the front, then the back. Engraved in silver were two words:

_Three Beans_

A gift commemorating the eve of Malfoy's seventeenth birthday celebration. That evening, Hermione told him she had eaten _three _vomit flavored _beans _(Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, of course) in order to remind herself of their first kiss. Undoubtedly, the pendant's meaning would only be understood by the couple (this being the reason for Hermione's decision to purchase the gift).

Frustrated, she shoved the pendant back into its place, unable to understand the meaning of Hermione's extremely odd and awfully pricey purchase. "Bloody black diamond wasted… a number?" The redhead muttered bitterly. Just as she slid the box back into the golden shopping bag, Hermione stepped into view. "Gin! Well, what do you think?"

Ginny, mouth unattractively hanging open, gawked at her best friend for nearly a minute, speechless.

The (sleeveless) gown had an emerald lace bodice with a white skirt falling to the floor, a pleated Empire-waist paired with a thick emerald ribbon enhanced the gown perfectly. A modest jewel neckline and a slightly plunging V back revealed enough but not too much.

"You _know_ how amazing you look in that dress, Hermione!" Ginny paused. "Although it's a bit Slytherin spirited, I can't tell you not to buy it!"

The elder girl smiled softly as she nodded in agreement before heading back to her fitting room. The bit of Slytherin spirit her gown exhibited was Hermione's main reason for spending nearly two hundred galleons on a bloody dress.

"_Wear green, my color. It'll compensate for your lack of support for me during my Quidditch matches." _

She smirked as her boyfriend's words seemed to float around her, maddening her. Malfoy was going to be flabbergasted, Hermione again complied to one of his relentless requests for her support of the Slytherin house.

**000**

"How much?" Malfoy asked faintly, entranced by the piece of jewelry twirling merrily in its own display case. Pink diamonds encrusted the ring, _dotted _nicely by white diamonds among the pink; the colors and pattern of the diamonds reminded him of certain (polka dotted) bikini-clad Gryffindor he caught at the lake many months ago.

Zabini contained a grin, watching his best mate eye the ring fondly, which clearly was _not _for Narcissa Malfoy. White, pink, and polka dots meant nothing to the woman…or anyone else really. The combination of white, pink, and polka dots were only significant to Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Zabini figured this was the reason for Malfoy's immediate interest in the piece when Belinda casually mentioned the ring's unique composition.

"414 galleons, 14 sickles and 21 knuts."

"Kindly include gift wrapping in that total, Belinda."

**000**

Hermione charmed her gown hastily, shrinking the silk beauty to become the size of doll's clothes. She shoved the shrunken gown and her purchase from Bebe's Bejeweled into her large purse just as she and Ginny entered the Florean Fortescue's Parlour, the owner removed the _Ice Cream_ portion of the title during the winter season. Because of the freezing weather, Florean Fortescue's Parlour served warm beverages as well as ice cream and other edibles. After spotting Harry and Ron (and the two seats saved for them) among the sea of customers, the parched girls seated themselves before greedily ordering drinks.

After twenty minutes of light conversation, Ron's whining began.

"Hermione, come on! You, Harry, and me always spend the day before Christmas Eve together. You know, since you never can spend Christmas Eve with us at the Burrow!"

She sipped her hot chocolate, considering how to respond. "I know, Ron. It's been our tradition since second year. But really, you and Harry don't need me to have your fun, and besides, we'll see each other at you-know-where on Christmas Day!"

Hermione nicely balanced her Christmas schedule. She had the Christmas weekend with her boyfriend, his mother, and her family at the Malfoy Manor. Then from Malfoy Manor she would head to 12 Grimmauld Place, there she would spend Christmas Day and the remaining days of the holidays with her friends and the Order members.

**000**

**Friday, December 22**

Malfoy was not pleased. Hermione and her family were due to arrive at the manor any minute and he was conferencing with the Headmaster, at Hogwarts. It was the bloody fucking holidays and the Slytherin was at school!

"You can't possibly be serious!" Sneering severely, Malfoy slumped even lower on the plush armchair of the headmaster's office, visibly displaying his displeasure.

"I've been known to joke entirely too much, yes. But right now, I'm being quite serious my boy." Replied Headmaster Dumbledore with a small chuckle, seated at his majestic desk across a scowling Head Boy.

Malfoy met with the Headmaster nearly every evening, their conferences held no particular pattern, unlike the three other meetings he had weekly- all set to meet on specific days. And also unlike his other meetings, his meetings with Dumbledore occurred even during the holidays. Dumbledore simply summoned the young Slytherin via owl and at once Malfoy headed to the office behind the statue of a gargoyle on the seventh floor.

"Besides," Dumbledore continued. "You met the older Order members last year! The remaining members absent during your arrival at headquarters a year ago already _know_ you as well. I will merely reintroduce you to them as my recruit."

Malfoy resisted the uncontrollable urge to roll his eyes. "The 'remaining members' you speak of, Headmaster, are Saint Potter and Weasel Weasley."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were recently inducted into the Order of the Phoenix. Initially Dumbledore had planned to initiate all four seventh years (Malfoy, Potter, Granger, and Weasley) together after their graduation from Hogwarts, but certain circumstances called for the Golden Trio to be inducted a bit sooner. Five of his members died during a Death Eater ambush. Dumbledore wouldn't say his three Gryffindor students were mere replacements, the deaths just advanced the date of their induction.

"And Miss Granger."

He focused his gaze on the plain ceiling of the headmaster's office, knowing Dumbledore was eyeing him knowingly at the mention of his girlfriend. Malfoy's relationship with the Gryffindor was no secret to the elderly, but incredibly wise, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Direct discussion of their relationship was off limits (unless Malfoy initiated the subject), the Headmaster knew his student fiercely protected his privacy. He always allowed Malfoy to offer information, not pry it out of the poor boy. Although Dumbledore, at times, gave indirect remarks pertaining to the Slytherin/Gryffindor union. Occasionally the implications were given in a teasing manner, other times in an advisory manner.

Malfoy cleared his throat slightly, disregarding the remark. "I imagine my return to 12 Grimmauld Place will be soon?"

"Certainly. Too soon, I apologize for the late notice. I'd like it very much if you made an appearance Christmas Day. You'll be heading to Hogwarts from headquarters so bring everything you'll be needing for the spring term." He paused. "Oh my, it's nearly Christmas, isn't it? Have you acquisitioned a gift for the young lady?" Of course he did not anticipate a response; Dumbledore swore the Head Boy nodded his head very slightly. "Quite a task?" He implored carefully.

"Easier than I expected, actually." Malfoy muttered, remaining seated. "She'd like me to extend her thanks to you."

The Headmaster displayed his approval of the relationship to both Malfoy and Hermione by providing loopholes for them. The wise old man allowed them to somewhat attend the ball together without raising suspicions- he **required **Malfoy to escort Hermione to the Winter Ball. He was not necessarily her date but the couple was promised one dance. She and Malfoy, being Heads of the school, were given the responsibility of launching the first dance of the Winter Ball as well. Hermione was forever grateful to her Headmaster (Malfoy was also, but of course he would never declare it).

"Whatever for?"

Malfoy nearly laughed at the old man's ambiguity. "Another attribute you're well-known for is your terrifying ability to _know_ every secret uttered within the walls of Hogwarts. You're meaning to tell me you have not a clue the reason for her thanks but you're very aware of who my girlfriend is? I'm sure you know what she's thanking you for, so there's no need to elaborate, Headmaster."

**000**

**Sunday, December 24**

The Malfoy Manor was buzzing with activity as the house-elves prepared for the dinner party the lady of the manor was hosting. While the house-elves gorgeously set the table, meticulously prepared the food, and established the proper ambiance for Christmas Eve dinner, the Malfoys and their guests were readying themselves as well.

The Grangers settled themselves at the East Wing, Alexander and Jacqueline claimed the Master Chambers while Hermione claimed smaller (it really depends on one's definition of _smaller_, her chamber was still rather large) quarters.

Malfoy found himself impatiently pacing around the spacious sitting room of Hermione's quarters. It was six thirty-five; they had agreed to head to the Banquet Hall five minutes ago. Of course the dinner was not anticipated to commence until seven but it was Hermione who suggested they arrive early.

Malfoy adjusted his infuriatingly itchy collar for the seventh time that evening. His dress robes were costly but simple, black on black, vaguely similar to what Harry Potter wore to the Yule Ball. "Dear Merlin, Granger! If you're planning on a dramatic descent, slowly gliding down those stairs, fuck it! I've got no tolerance or desire for your theatrics, bloody witch-" He paused abruptly, he finally noticed she was already making a descent down to their Common Room.

Indeed she was slowly gliding down a small staircase (much like her suite at Hogwarts, a staircase, although not as grand, led to her bedroom)- at first. Upon hearing his rude remarks, Hermione unappealingly stomped down the remaining stairs. The somewhat troll-like scowl she wore did nothing to hide her beauty, very lightly enhanced with cosmetics. Her thick hair poured past her shoulders in soft ringlets, bouncing violently as she swiftly marched to him. The gown (barely sweeping the hardwood floor) rustled with every step Hermione took, prompting her boyfriend to thoroughly study it .

"You're wearing green-" Malfoy grinned, his glare vanishing at the sight of her. The gown was anything but extravagant, rather it was very elegant. The emerald complemented her dark tresses while the white brought out the color of her eyes.

"All you need is _Slytherin_ etched on this darling emerald ribbon-" He took hold of the said ribbon when she reached him.

Snatching the silky piece of fabric from his grasp, Hermione poked his toned chest lightly. "Good Merlin, I tried to look nice for the asshole known as my boyfriend and the fool yells at me." With each word she spoke, she prodded his chest a bit harder.

Malfoy's honed Seeker skills kicked in, his hand swiftly catching hers as she withdrew from her contact with him. He smiled, a rare smile. "You look divine."

Accepting his compliment with a delicate smile, Hermione adjusted his collar for him. Malfoy gazed down, watching her as she did this; he still had the height advantage, even with her wearing heels. Merlin he loved her. He'd never tell her but the Slytherin was terrified of another break up, every irrelevant argument, any ounce of hostility, reminded him of their brief separation during the summer. Malfoy broke up with her for three weeks during the summer, deeply regretting his decision each day until their reconciliation during their Heads training weekend at Hogwarts. The breakup significantly strengthened their relationship…

**Flashback: **

Reluctantly, he walked into Headmaster Dumbledore's office, knowing his ex-girlfriend would already be seated before the headmaster's desk. It was the weekend prior to the return of all Hogwarts students. Hermione and Malfoy were summoned a week earlier because they were both unsurprisingly appointed as Head Boy and Head Girl. Like previous Heads, the two seventh years were asked to spend a weekend at Hogwarts to be trained by Dumbledore and his deputy headmistress.

Malfoy seated himself on an armchair to her right, though he paid her no attention. After being lectured on their expected responsibilities, the headmaster instructed his students to _acquaint _themselves with one another (at this request both Malfoy and Hermione snorted bitterly) as they headed to the seventh floor in search of a portrait of Hogwart's first ever Head Boy and Head Girl.

The pair walked in silence for ten minutes, their out of synch footsteps echoing against the stone corridor walls the only sound.

It was harder for Malfoy to disregard her existence when she walked right beside him, her scent intoxicating. Unfortunately he had missed her, three weeks with no attempted communication from either side. Trying to fool himself Hermione would not notice, Malfoy sent her frequent, at times apologetic, glances.

Eventually their eyes met- she released a small growl, ceasing her strides abruptly.

"You dare to send me those looks of longing, Malfoy? As I recall _you_ ended our relationship."

Malfoy was not fazed, unlike her, he continued walking.

He heard her sob. "It was over just like that. With no explanation whatsoever."

Turning suddenly, Malfoy eyed her maliciously. "It's still an unsolved mystery to you? You really are dumber than you appear…" He spat coldly.

"I must be dumber than I appear. I dated you."

Because this was not the response Malfoy expected, the remark hurt him more than she had intended. But during their harsh goodbye at Malfoy Manor Hermione was not given many opportunities to speak, he knew she would not hold back now.

"I'm stupid to have wasted my time on you… I'm stupid to have slept with you all those times…and I was stupid to think _maybe_ I'd take you back…

"It was incredibly dense of me to involve myself with you, Draco Malfoy." She was crying. Both her words and tears hurt Malfoy deeply; Hermione was unaware.

"And it's also stupid of you to think I give a shit about the massive amount of stupidity I've caused in your pathetic life." Turning away from her, continued down the corridor. Malfoy nearly reached the stairs leading to the third floor when he heard her speak once more.

"Why Draco? Why did you break up with me? Why!" She lividly shouted.

"Why?" He roared venomously. "Because **I fucking love you**, bloody idiot muggle-born!" He was beyond angry. Malfoy honestly wanted to Avada the young woman for her idiocy, for unintentionally forcing him to profess his love to her.

They did not rush to one another to embrace or kiss. She did not tell him she loved him too. It was eerily silent. Hermione was staring at him blankly, unable to react… not **knowing **_how _to react.

He took a small step towards her-

"I was training with Snape, learning how to block my mind if ever Voldemort decided to penetrate it. Snape tapped into my memories of our relationship, Granger. I gathered enough strength to block your identity but he knows I have-" Malfoy paused. "Excuse me, _had_, a girlfriend. The relationship was not discussed.

"But later that night Voldemort dictated a revolting speech about his hate of muggle-borns and muggles, he spoke of punishing any of us if we even formed _thought_s of being pleasant towards such filth-"

Hermione scoffed bitterly, interrupting him. "So you broke it off to save yourself."

"Shut the fuck up and listen, Granger." He took another small step towards her before continuing. "We had to watch Voldemort rape a trainee's muggle girlfriend. He RAPED her and then had her boyfriend KILL her. Don't you understand? Those two people could have been us! Voldemort penetrated that trainee's mind, I could have been that trainee, Hermione.

"The next night Snape got into my head again, he discovered your identity. He then told me what I already knew, once it was Voldemort in my head, you were guaranteed the same end as that muggle girl. He advised me to accept it all… my inability to protect my mind… your fate… the bastard was suggesting that I do nothing! He was provoking me! I couldn't stand the idea of _you_ being raped and killed. Fuck, I was scared shitless." Sometime during his explanation, Malfoy reached her, he was holding her face with two shaking hands. "Breaking up with you made you return home, back to the Muggle world- where I thought you'd be safer if Voldemort discovered our relationship. Ending what we had kept you away from me, away from the Wizarding World, away from Voldemort. I knew you wouldn't-"

"-run to my friends? I was too heartbroken to try to pretend I was okay. I couldn't seek their company at the state I was in… It would have been rather difficult explaining the source of my distress. You are not the only one in love, Draco." She told him in a shaky whisper, falling into his embrace as his arms wrapped around her.

"You have to understand I was only taking precautions. I was very aware of my inability to defend my mind. My severity towards you was my insurance that you would not come back to me. Ending it was my extremely weak attempt-my very cowardly attempt to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me, Draco. I can't hide behind you during the entire war. I just need you to fight beside me."

**End Flashback.**

The striking couple (Hermione and Draco, of course) strolled through the Corridor of Malfoy Ancestors, the only direct path leading to the Banquet Hall. Intricate portraits of Malfoy's family members, both esteemed and not so esteemed, lined the walls in extravagant frames. Many had grown accustomed to Hermione's presence at the manor but their familiarity to her during her first visit was very different. She was once known as an unwelcome Mudblood to the Malfoy ancestors, not Malfoy's girlfriend. Not only was Hermione viewed disapprovingly by her boyfriend's deceased family, his mother (very much alive) was not so welcoming either.

Hermione vividly recalled the day she met Narcissa Malfoy. She had nervously shuffled through the very hallway she stood in at the moment, receiving glares and threats from the portraits…

**Flashback.**

"Filthy Mudblood! How dare you dirty this home with your presence!"

"Draco Malfoy, if your father knew of the disgrace you've brought onto the Malfoy name! Associating with a Mudblood… are you _holding_ her hand? Absolutely revolting!"

"Revolt? A revolt sounds very nice at the moment!"

Malfoy wrapped a protective arm around his girlfriend's waist, he held closely against his toned body, as if somehow he was shielding her from hearing his family member's threats and complaints.

"This is the only corridor to the Banquet Hall." He muttered to her apologetically.

Hermione tried to manage a smile but hearing the blunt opinions of his family members only intensified her anxiety.

Too quickly were they stepping into the Malfoy Manor Banquet Hall.

It was only noontime, Narcissa had instructed her son to arrive for lunch; three impressive (unlit) Nineteenth Century Baccarat chandeliers caught Hermione's attention. The three magnificent beauties magically levitating above the hall were composed of crystal and bronze with endlessly burning candles, which lit at sundown. It seems the entire Banquet Hall was designed to accentuate the loveliness of the chandeliers. Bronze wooden floors laid beneath a massive table surrounded by twenty-three vacant chairs, Mrs. Malfoy had claimed the twenty-fourth seat. Twenty-four sets of fine silver utensils lay still beside their assigned bronze plates, glass goblets were empty.

Hermione remembered to conceal her childlike curiosity when her eyes met the cold stare of Narcissa Malfoy. Her piercing silver eyes, eyes inherited by her son, stood out against her long blonde tresses and pale complexion.

"Tell me the girl you're holding is your girlfriend's handmaiden, Draco." She spat frigidly. "I must say she must be very comfortable with herself if she allows you to be so cozy with the help."

The Muggle-born almost laughed at Narcissa's insult, she understood now where Malfoy inherited his incredible wit and sarcasm. Hermione had expected him to withdraw his arm from its position around her waist but instead he tightened his hold. She suddenly felt very insecure about her appearance, Narcissa had called her a handmaiden! The Gryffindor donned a short, white summer dress for the luncheon at Malfoy Manor but now she regretted her selection.

"_Mother_, this is my **girlfriend**, Hermione Granger."

His mother gave a bitter laugh as she beckoned the couple to take the seats on either side of her, Narcissa was situated at the only appropriate seat for her- the head of the table.

"When your Great-Uncle Mortimer appeared in a Banquet Hall painting, hollering about Mudbloods and disowning you, I could hardly believe what I scarcely deciphered. But I no longer have to believe my Uncle Mortimer, I've got my eyes to believe now. You've really fooled yourself into thinking I would approve of _this_." Narcissa sneered as Hermione seated herself to her right before eyeing her son disapprovingly as he too took a seat. Hermione tugged on her dress nervously, the elder woman seemed to be studying every thread of her outfit.

Hermione felt both their gazes on her but she pretended to be deeply fascinated with her reflection in the bronze plate. Of course his mother hated her, her parents adored him and in return the gods made sure to have Narcissa loathe just breathing the same air as the "inferior" Muggle-born.

"My company is not wanted here, I'll be on my way." She muttered as she stood, for the second time her eyes met Narcissa's.

"Honestly, wearing white before dinner… and your knees are exposed! A lady must reveal little during the day, most especially during a luncheon!" Having turned away already, Hermione swiftly spun around after her remark. "Go on to your chambers and change out of that dress! We'll all forget this ugly incident ever happened. You and I will be reintroduced at your return." Narcissa was concealing a smile, though somehow Hermione realized it. The beautiful widowed woman was very aware both her son and Hermione had assumed she was upset about the girl's lack of _pure _blood.

"O-Okay?" Hermione glanced at her boyfriend- he was grinning manically at the exchange he just witnessed. Malfoy gave her a slight nod, silently indicating that she follow his mother's instructions.

Once she knew she could no longer be heard from Banquet Hall, Hermione freely released her uncontrollable giggles. Narcissa was revolted by Hermione's choice of attire for the afternoon, not by her Muggle lineage. Wearing white and exposing a bit of leg, knee to be more specific, before dinner was a mistake only a handmaiden would make, apparently. Only Narcissa Malfoy would fuss over such triviality! As she climbed up an elegant staircase, Hermione decided to purchase a book about Pureblood etiquette as soon as possible.

**End Flashback.**

**12 Grimmauld Place**_, Christmas Day_

Hermione observed her company as she waited for Dumbledore to commence the unscheduled meeting he called for after the Order members enjoyed the marvelous Christmas breakfast Molly Weasley prepared for them. Their conference table was arranged in a horseshoe shape, Dumbledore, of course, was seated at the middlemost portion of the table. The members were given their places at the two branches of the horseshoe. All the Weasleys (including Fleur Delacour and excluding Ginny and Percy) were present, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry and Ron were in attendance as well. They all quietly mingled with those seated near, wishing one another '_Happy Christmas_' while they waited for the arrival of their leader, Albus Dumbledore.

He finally arrived, dressed in magnificent, very festive red and green robes. Dumbledore grinned jovially at his members, his colleagues. They all stood at his entrance. Then suddenly his gentle face was marred with a slight frown.

"Happy Christmas to you all!" He greeted, motioning them to be seated. Dumbledore allowed the murmur of their responses die down before speaking again. "I hope this impromptu gathering didn't spoil anyone's morning."

"Nonsense, Albus! You summoned us here a few hours than we expected. I hardly call this meeting _impromptu_." Mad-Eye told him with a gruff chuckle. For the past three years, the Order members celebrated Christmas Day with an event they called the "Orderly Luncheon", an extravagant lunch with all the members able to attend.

The members, including Dumbledore, shared a laugh before they were informed of the reason for gathering at headquarters earlier than they'd expected.

"It's no secret to any of you that I've recruited a new spy for the Order, I've spoken of him once or twice since I've recruited him. His initiation into Voldemort's ring of Death Eaters is approaching which means I will be inducting him into the Order as well. When I brought him here nearly a year ago, I briefly introduced the boy to some of our members. Well, I've been very uncomfortable with this. Before we induct our new member I'd like everyone to be formally introduced to him, acquaint yourselves with him, in a sense learn to accept him." The wise man paused, seeing Harry raise his hand uneasily. "Yes, Harry?"

"Listen to yourself, your recruit is becoming a Death Eater… how positive are you that he's not a spy for Voldemort?"

"Harry I've had a year to acquaint myself with him. If you were only given the opportunity I had to watch him transform, there would be no doubt in your mind he is on our side. And fortunately, I'm giving you all this opportunity, somewhat. He will join us for our Orderly Luncheon and reside here at 12 Grimmauld Place until the holidays are over. As of today, consider him an unofficial Order member."

When the meeting adjourned, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity floated about the former House of Black. The adult members and Hermione were anxious, having already met Dumbledore's recruit. They knew of the hostile history between the young man and his fellow schoolmates, schoolmates who would soon become his _official_ comrades. The _young_ adults- Harry and the Weasleys- were extremely curious.

"Forty minutes until our Orderly Luncheon." Fred Weasley sang childishly seated beside his twin, George. The twins, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione were in the home's once musty Grand Room, waiting for the luncheon to begin. During an extraordinarily dull day at headquarters during the summer, Hermione and Ginny renovated the Grand Room, creating a room for the younger Order members.

"Must you sing that bloody song every ten minutes?" Ginny growled at her older brother, looking up from the Daily Prophet article she was currently reading. Not waiting for a response, the only female redhead in the room turned her attention to Hermione.

"Malfoy bought his little prissy girlfriend a ring. Seems the Daily Prophet's Christmas gift for the prick is another front page article about him." She paused thoughtfully. "You've never seen her at your dormitory?"

"What?" Hermione asked absently, taking the Daily Prophet from Ginny's grasp.

_Hardly an engagement ring!_

_Our most eligible underage wizard, Draco Malfoy, was spotted at Bebe's Bejeweled, a privately owned boutique located at, of course, Diagon Alley (see page five for directions and contact information). It was reported he shelled out 420 galleons on a precious pink and white diamond encrusted band- _Fascinated, Hermione stared at the photograph of the ring in its case, spinning slowly. "_This is NOT an engagement ring, ladies and wizards! This a wedding band! Has Mr. Malfoy secretly tied the knot with his mystery girlfriend? _

Reading enough, Hermione threw the newspaper on the coffee table. They were going to exchange gifts later on this evening, when everyone was asleep. Would she be unwrapping that 420 galleon ring?

She heard Ginny chuckle from her left. "Don't think too hard." The younger girl was eyeing her oddly. "I'd ask what was going on during the moment you just had, but I haven't got the time. They've called us for lunch-" Hermione then felt her body leave the softness of the sofa, Ginny had pulled her to her feet.

Chaos would soon ensue.

* * *

What'd you think? Everything I wrote, I wrote for a reason. You'll see in the next chapter.

Please review:)

You guys have no idea how long it took me to arrange this chapter! Eleven was hard to write because I've already got a strategy in my head and I've got to place everything so precisely so the story flows harmoniously! Ginny's going to have a big role in the next chapter! Chapter twelve… Draco is "reintroduced" to Ron and Harry. Hermione and Draco exchange gifts.. Mostly going to be set at headquarters! Don't be surprised if it's shorter than this chapter! Hahaha. Review please!


	12. Thirty Minutes

Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! It has motivated me to start my twelfth chapter! Please continue to review and support this story! Heheh.

Guys, seriously, I need your feedback:)

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

With _attempted _composure, Malfoy disapprovingly watched his twenty-four year old cousin perform a precautionary search of his school trunk. After Dumbledore stealthily escorted Malfoy into Grimmauld Place (the Slytherin's arrival was unknown to most of the Order members), Auror Nymphadora Tonks was instructed to carry out a thorough search of Malfoy's belongings. Being one to fiercely protect his privacy, Malfoy winced severely each time his cousin examined any item remotely important to him. He honestly wanted to curse his Half-blood cousin and Dumbledore for even taking the pointless precaution to search his trunk.

"Searches are mandatory upon arrival, Draco. Even Dumbledore's belongings are ransacked. So don't you go forming ideas about being the only member needing to be searched." Tonks told him as she mercilessly continued to dig through his trunk.

The cousins were in a newly renovated bedroom of headquarters, the former House of Black. Molly Weasley found herself spending more time at headquarters than at the Burrow and because of this she began a campaign to restore the Order headquarters to the magnificent home it once was. For most of the day she was alone, Arthur and other Order members were at work, of course. Rather than wasting her time knitting or lounging about, Molly focused on her new project. With old photographs as her guides and a wand as her sole tool, Molly managed to finish the home restoration three days before her children and Harry arrived for the winter holidays. She received nothing but praise for her work, many urged her to seriously consider a career in home restorations.

Malfoy was seated on a plush full-sized bed, on the hardwood floor were Tonks and his school trunk. He made no reply to her statement but he began to relax at bit. It was no accident Tonks was assigned to perform the search, she was his family. And for some reason -although she and Malfoy had absolutely no contact until Dumbledore first brought him to headquarters- his tense muscles relaxed slightly at the thought.

"Oh no. Draco, how could you!" Tonks asked in an urgent whisper.

And again his muscles tensed. Dumbledore warned him if any Dark artifacts or devices or Dark surveillance equipment were found, suspension from his involvement with the Order was promised. Malfoy knew he had not purposely armed himself with any Dark instruments but that did not ease his paranoia.

He was knelt beside her at once, curiously eyeing what was clutched in her hands. Was he mistaken or was his cousin _trying_ to hide **it **from him? And it seemed she was containing her laughter, with difficulty.

Tonks proudly displayed the article of clothing to him, grinning mischievously.

He could've screamed, had he not remembered his presence had yet to be announced. His Gryffindor boxers! Of all his priceless belongings, Tonks chose his bloody knickers to wave mockingly in the air.

"My baby cousin secretly supports the Gryffs!" The bint was laughing!

With horror, Malfoy snatched the offending undergarment away from her.

"A gift from my girlfriend." He told her through gritted teeth. "Like you, she finds herself hysterically comical. A bit sad no one else agrees."

Tonks was still laughing. "You would be dating a Gryffindor."

"A ridiculous assumption, _Nymphadora_."

Resenting his use of her given name, she forcibly shoved him (Malfoy, being much stronger, was unaffected) before replying. "It is not an assumption and you know it! You hate Harry and his lot. Why else would you be wearing Gryffindor merchandise? _Oh dear Merlin._" Tonks gasped loudly before pausing dramatically. "Unless, those aren't yours to wear! Maybe someone left it at Malfoy Manor during a visit and you're simply returning it to him!"

"Are you implying-"

"You're dating a _male_ Gryffindor!" Tonks gagged noisily before laughing once more.

"You know, Dumbledore had strict rules against me injuring Potter and his minions during my stay here. But the old man never established specific rules for your safety." Malfoy hissed venomously, although his eyes held amusement.

"Lighten up!" Tonks demanded before replacing all his belongings back into his trunk, the search was over. "Really though, if she's a…let's she's a Slytherin… and she gave you the knickers as a joke… why do you wear it? And I know you wear it. Otherwise that embarrassing undergarment would not have been in your trunk for me to gleefully discover. "

Malfoy sighed, throwing the infamous boxers into his trunk. "She's a Gryffindor. I had given her a pair of Slytherin knickers for our one month and in return, on a random day, I received the boxers. Although she refused to wear hers unless I wore mine." He was blushing a bit, not having shared the tidbit of information with anyone, not even Zabini. Especially not Zabini. Malfoy saw his cousin preparing to reply so he continued. "She usually wears hers when I've got a match she can't, or won't, attend and on our monthly celebrations. I told her I'd sport those hideous Gryffindor boxers twelve times a year, once a month, during the monthly celebration of our relationship. I find celebrating every month very pointless but we've been doing it for nearly a year now so why stop?"

Tonks pondered his words for a moment before wrinkling her nose in disgust. "And how exactly do either of you _prove _you're wearing the undergarments?" She already knew the answer!

"Nymphadora, that's one subject I don't discuss with family."

Their eyes met suddenly. Malfoy saw his cousin smile in his presence, a real smile, for the first time.

"I don't think anyone from my mother's side of the family has ever willingly admitted to being related to me."

Malfoy smirked. "Are you certain _you _want to willingly admit you're related to _me_? I'm sure Potter and his redheaded goons will assume I've got you under the Imperius Curse."

Waving her wand, Tonks charmed his trunk shut before she sat back down on the hardwood floor, facing him.

"You're nervous."

"Absolutely not!" He barked a bit too defensively. "I'd just feel better, _much_ better, if someone collected the wands of all those hateful Gryffindors before I make my grand entrance."

Tonks stood, laughing softly. "I've got to report my search results to Dumbledore now. You're clear for residence at headquarters." She informed him as she reached the door. "I'll be back when it's time for your 'grand entrance'."

While he waited for his cousin's return, Malfoy dressed himself in gray semi-dress robes, robes appropriate for a Christmas luncheon. He then realized his Black relatives deserved his respect. His mother's cousin Sirius Black joined the good fight, Tonks was an Auror (not to mention she and Sirius were both Order members) and his Aunt Andromeda married a Muggle-born. The war manifested his Black heritage-- not only was he fighting for Dumbledore, like Tonks and the deceased Sirius, but dating a Muggle-born as well! These were not Malfoy traits. Malfoy smirked lightly, now he understood why he and Tonks bonded so quickly. She saw him as a Black, not a Malfoy; he saw her as family, not a Half-blood.

Tonks finally returned, finding him seated on an armchair beside a small fireplace. She loudly marched to him, wordlessly announcing her presence.

"Greetings, Nymphadora." He drawled, his gaze remaining on the blazing fire.

She lightly tossed a basket onto his lap, eyeing him expectantly.

"You too!"

He eyed her stupidly. "I beg your pardon?"

The basket (containing several wands) received a pointed stare from Tonks; he realized she had collected the Gryffindor wands. She had honored his offhanded comment made earlier. Understanding her request, finally, Malfoy surrendered his wand; he almost smiled.

**000**

Harry Potter laughed maniacally. He and Ron both had a bloodied Malfoy pinned against a wall of the dining room. Finding themselves wandless, the two Gryffindors resorted to simply kicking Malfoy's ass the traditional Muggle way- excruciating punches to his face (which was just about unrecognizable) and throbbing kicks elsewhere. Malfoy had fallen unconscious ages ago but the brutal Gryffindor beating did not cease.

"Harry!" Harry heard Malfoy say, he sounded a bit like George Weasley. "HARRY!" Odd, the Slytherin then sounded like Fred Weasley.

"What!" He replied, abruptly awaking from his deceivingly vivid daydream.

"You've been mindlessly stumbling down the steps-" Fred said. Harry suddenly remembered he was currently following the twins down the staircase, headed for the dining room.

"Not to mention you erupted into a fit of rather maniacal laughter!" Added George.

"I apologize. My mind was elsewhere…I fell into a violent daydream, you see."

"Now it makes sense. Undoubtedly a daydream about…" Fred paused, glancing up the staircase for eavesdroppers. "…pummeling _Malfoy_?"

Harry seethed at the mention of Malfoy's name. Earlier, as they filed out of the Grand Room, Fred and George had asked to speak to Harry upstairs. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione suspiciously watched the trio climb the stairs but continued to the dining room. Upstairs, Harry was informed the recruit of Dumbledore was Draco Malfoy. George was present when Malfoy was brought to the Order months ago.

"_Now Harry, I know your temper. We've all been telling Dumbledore that keeping the identity of his recruit a secret until the very last minute wouldn't be good for the infamous Potter temper. So, without Dumbledore's permission, I'm exempting you from the surprise… I'll still be expecting a showdown between you and __**Malfoy**__ though--" _

Harry recalled George's words as he rushed down the remaining steps, extremely eager to confront Dumbledore; then maybe he'd commence the predicted "showdown" with Malfoy.

"Harry!" Fred called out desperately, knowing the infamous Potter temper would soon be unleashed.

"Damn, I think we managed to _worsen _the situation!" George grumbled as he and his twin brother followed Harry into the dining room.

The dining room was abuzz with causal conversation (the members mingled as they waited for everyone to arrive); Harry disregarded every member present except the man seated at the head of the table-- Albus Dumbledore, of course.

"I'm going to spare you the theatrics of spending the entire luncheon pretending I accept that Slytherin!"

Silence quickly infected every audible sound in the dining room; all eyes fell on Harry. Several accusing looks were immediately sent to the twins (George was smiling apologetically, indicating he was the source of the leaked information), both uncomfortably took their seats.

Dumbledore merely stared at his pupil, unfazed.

"_Malfoy_? MALFOY!" Harry gave a hollow laugh.

"Malfoy!" Ron and Ginny exclaimed in unison, both reasonably confused.

"Silence!" Hissed their mother venomously, enthralled by the one-sided exchange between Harry and Dumbledore.

He glared at his headmaster. "I've got ample reason to believe you've gone bloody fucking mad!" Harry simply disregarded the exchange between the Weasleys. His remark elicited a collective gasp--

"That's enough, Potter!" Malfoy stepped into the dining room, Harry's back to him.

"_Malfoy_-" He spat, turning to face him, armed with his wand. "SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH!" Harry aimed his wand at his longtime rival.

Malfoy sent his cousin an exasperated glance. "Of course all their wands were collected but his."

Tonks shrugged helplessly in response. "He wasn't present when I collected the wands…"

Quickly realizing his adversary had no wand, Harry laughed, manically. It seemed his daydream had the possibility to become a reality.

Malfoy disregarded Tonks, returning his attention to Harry. "Potter, I suggest you remember who you're speaking to!" He yelled maliciously.

"I WILL SAY WHAT I WANT TO YOU!"

The Slytherin smirked in response. "By all means, go ahead. But make certain to direct your anger at me, not the headmaster!" Malfoy replied heatedly. "Did my presence suddenly permit you to disrespect him?"

Harry could only dumbly stare at Malfoy, rendered utterly speechless.

Draco Malfoy defended Dumbledore.

"Answer, Potter." He hissed venomously. Malfoy was beyond furious. The idiot managed to unintentionally force Malfoy to display some loyalty to the old man! Had Harry excluded his vulgarity when addressing Dumbledore, Malfoy would not have felt obliged to defend his headmaster. Being who he was, Malfoy was no stranger to disrespecting others; no doubt his language was rather vulgar at times. Although his refined upbringing trained him to always refrain from cursing at his elders.

"ANSWER ME!" Livid, Malfoy nearly pounced the Gryffindor--

--but Dumbledore _finally _intervened.

"It's fine, Draco. I've been anticipating an outburst. Very understandable, considering the situation. I'm quite pleased it occurred before our luncheon. Although I'm not discouraging any prospective outbursts that may come during the meal." Dumbledore gave a cheerful smile before beckoning both Harry and Malfoy to sit down.

Malfoy seated himself between Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. As he sat, Malfoy studied the narrow dining room, which housed a long attractively dressed and set table. He noticed some members were missing--Minerva McGonagall was preparing Hogwarts for the return of students, while Severus Snape and Rubeus Hagrid were off performing missions for the Order. Members who were present (the Weasleys, Lupin, Moody, and Shacklebolt) muttered their greetings to the Slytherin. Malfoy concealed a smirk, noticing his scowling girlfriend had not bothered to welcome him-- not even when the Weasley children grudgingly growled their greetings. Her scowl was produced by himself or Harry, no doubt.

"Draco, did you receive the sweater I sent you for Christmas?" Molly questioned absently while waving her wand. The exquisite lunch she laboriously prepared instantly appeared at the table's center.

"I did. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." He replied uneasily.

Hearing this exchange, Ron gasped loudly. "The mystery green sweater is no longer a mystery." He muttered to his siblings. The Weasley children had seen Molly knitting a green sweater during the holidays, they frequently asked her who the sweater was for but she gave them no answer each time she was questioned.

The remark oddly elicited a wave of weak laughter from the entire table, everyone desperate to relieve the unbelievable tension.

Harry shot his best mate a withering glare, not appreciating his humor, although he knew the humor was unintentional.

The lunch went on very tensely. Harry loudly slammed his goblet down each time he took a drink while Ginny and her brothers sent deadly glares at Malfoy. Ginny's spoon missed her mouth three times, she was so engaged by her glaring; her brothers forgot to eat altogether. The Gryffindors definitely took advantage of the ability to express their displeasure of Malfoy's company through slamming goblets, chewing loudly, and glaring.

Malfoy didn't seemed bothered by their poor luncheon etiquette, he was deeply immersed in his quiet conversation with his cousin. And one Gryffindor certainly noticed. Hermione had been resentfully watching Tonks and Malfoy, having completely forgotten they were cousins.

The older members could only watch the glaring, muttering, and terrible table manners. They all exchanged exasperated looks, silently requesting that someone interfere to cease the immaturity. Dumbledore simply continued to enjoy the delicious lunch Molly prepared.

Suddenly Harry stood, forcefully shoving anything he could off the table.

"I was going to eat that." George commented weakly, his plate falling victim to Harry's rage. The redhead stared down at the food on the hardwood flooring, uneaten and covered in the shattered remains of his plate.

"A fabulous meal as always, Mrs. Weasley." With that, Harry walked out.

Ron just nodded as he stood, he nearly mimicked Harry's dramatic technique of excusing himself but resisted after receiving a deadly glare from his mother. He instead scrambled away after Harry.

As Ron's footsteps faded, Hermione openly rolled her eyes at the behavior of her best friends. "Quite an _orderly_ luncheon indeed-" She very sarcastically remarked.

**000**

Hermione and Ginny entered the dim bedroom Ron and Harry always shared at Grimmauld Place. It was nearly eleven in the evening, the boys were laid on their respective beds, discussing the events of Christmas Day. After the infamous **disorderly **luncheon, Malfoy remained in his bedroom. Due to the absence of the Slytherin, the remainder of the day was rather uneventful. Especially for Harry, he was exiled to his bedroom the entire day. Being the ever loyal best mate, Ron joined Harry in his banishment.

"Oh, decided to finally talk to us, have you?" Harry sneered, sitting up.

Understandably, Ginny was incredibly upset by the Malfoy addition to the Order. She could have joined Harry and Ron in their day of hating Malfoy but Molly Weasley unknowingly unloaded her frustrations on both the Gryffindor ladies. Realizing Ron (somewhat) and Harry (mostly) were the reasons for the unnecessarily laborious tasks Molly assigned (on Christmas Day!), Hermione and Ginny felt no desire to initiate any conversation with the pair.

"We have been entirely too BUSY to pay you a visit!" Ginny told him with sickening sarcasm. "_He_ ruins our luncheon and _his_ punishment is staying in his bedroom all day. While Hermione and I had to clean _his_ mess, WITHOUT magic, we had to wash the endless stacks of plates, WITHOUT MAGIC… TWICE. The plates from LUNCH and DINNER!"

Harry shook his head. "Typical. Cleaning up after _Malfoy--_"

"YOU. We've been cleaning up after YOU. Malfoy didn't ruin antique Black plates by inconsiderately shoving them off the table! _You_ have been in here hiding while the rest of us had to face my mum's wrath! But of course Mum can't bitch at poor, fragile, Harry. That temper may flare up again!"

"Why's Mum so upset?" Ron winced when Hermione fixed her deadly glare on him.

"Oh, I don't know, Ronald. Your mother has only played hostess to these luncheons the past two years! This is the one day out of an entire year set aside for simply _enjoying _the company of our fellow members! This is the one day we actually take time to notice and appreciate how delicious the food is! And Harry did a marvelous job of ruining that tradition. Be sure to tell your friend…" Hermione sent Harry a nasty glare-- "…no matter the enormity of his tantrums, Malfoy is going to become a member. He'd be wise to remember that."

"And I promise you will remember how we suffered Molly Weasley's wrath for your unprovoked theatrics!" Ginny added threateningly, pointing a shaking finger at Harry. "And Ron, chew free of that leash and stop stupidly following Harry around like a pathetic dog!"

"This is fantastic. Malfoy arrives and _we're _getting bitched at. Bloody bints--"

"HOW DARE YOU--" Hermione began but the door suddenly opened, for some reason the foursome half-expected Malfoy to enter. But it was Tonks. She gave them a tired smile.

"Hello."

"Tonks! Nice to see you away from Malfoy's side." Hermione gave a sickeningly fake smile as she marched out of the bedroom, knowing staying for a conversation with the Tonks would be regrettable. Malfoy had spent the entire day acquainting himself with his cousin (in the privacy of his bedroom), driving Hermione wild with nearly noticeable jealousy.

Ginny sent the Auror an apologetic glance before leaving the bedroom as well.

"Bloody bints!" Ron repeated in whisper to Harry.

"Don't mind Hermione and Ginny." Harry told her.

Thinking the Gryffindor girls were simply upset about her open displays of acceptance of Malfoy, Tonks was not piqued by their attitudes. She closed the door, eyeing Ron suspiciously (he was smiling rather wickedly) as she sat at the edge of Harry's bed. "What's with the undeniably creepy grin, Ron?"

"Had I known you were interested in younger wizards--"

"Not that it's any of your business, _Ronnikins_, but I prefer older men!" Tonks blushed, having a particular Order member in mind.

"You two were flirting the entire luncheon!" Harry alleged with a grin.

"Oh please, we weren't even sitting next to one another--" Tonks paused thoughtfully, recalling the luncheon seating arrangement. "DISGUSTING! He's my _cousin_!" She was laughing. "I know you Purebloods prefer inbreeding but I don't!"

"You're his cousin?" They both questioned in unison.

"Yes! Our mothers are sisters." She eyed them both seriously. "I've felt what you're both feeling towards him right now. Violent distrust. But understand he's earned Dumbledore's trust, boys. No outburst, no curse, no argument will change that now." When she received no response, she continued. "The members, excluding Ron and Hermione, had a meeting and we've decided once Draco is officially inducted into the Order, you're to be his partner, Harry."

"NO! I REFUSE!"

"Your behavior was unacceptable today. Punishing Hermione and Ginny for your actions, Harry, was done to emphasize the Order of the Phoenix is a _team_. When one messes up, the rest suffers. Rivalry does not exist in this organization! We find resolving this rivalry can only be done by partnering you with Malfoy. If you're on the battlefield fighting your partner rather than those Death Eaters, I guarantee both you and Draco will die."

**000**

Creak!

"Bugger!" Hermione muttered, hearing a floorboard maddeningly groan for a third time. Ordinarily, the journey from her room (which she shared with Ginny) to his wasn't frustrating at all. Three bedrooms separated the couple, three _occupied_ bedrooms. The prospect of getting caught, squeaky floorboards, and the darkness of the hallway created a rather frustrating path to Malfoy's bedroom. Generally, the occupants of headquarters slept by 1 am; Hermione and Malfoy agreed to meet at 2:05 am.

After two more nosily traitorous floorboards and a stubbed toe, Hermione escaped the hallway. Yawning, she studied her new surroundings, which had already adopted his amazing, overwhelmingly intoxicating scent. The small space that was Malfoy's room was dimly lit by weak flames in the fireplace. His full-sized bed was unmade and occupied. Lazily casting a silencing spell, Hermione discarded a small box and her wand on his nightstand before joining him in his bed. Predictably (and delightfully), he was without a shirt. A plain white sheet was drawn above his waist, leaving his toned stomach and chest exposed.

_He's just going to lay there as if I'm not here?_

Crawling under the sheets, Hermione situated herself between his legs. Her chest against his boxer-clad nether region. Resting her chin on his hard, rippled stomach, Hermione closed her eyes. She slowly ran her hands up his toned thighs, up into his boxers; Hermione made sure to refrain from touching _him_. Against her breasts, she felt his growing _appreciation _for her ministrations.

Malfoy buried a hand in her wild curls, releasing a lusty sigh. "I'm awake--" He told her in surrender. Hermione unexpectedly applied a considerable amount of weight on his arousal, he groaned sharply; she was punishing him for feigning sleep.

"Come here." He beckoned hoarsely.

Hermione sidled up against his body, taking every opportunity to brush herself against his excitement.

Finally their eyes met.

"Hi." She whispered.

Malfoy incoherently grunted his hello, sitting up slightly to kiss her--

Her smile vanished, even in the dimness Hermione managed to notice a suspicious mark on his neck. Dodging his lips, with one arm she pinned him against the mattress while she reached for her wand. Without glancing over her shoulder, Hermione muttered a simple spell, awaking the weak fire. The room brightened considerably, thanks to the raging flames in the fireplace.

"Granger--"

Hermione grabbed hold of his jaw, roughly twisting his head in order to view his bruised neck properly.

"When did you receive this darling little _bruise_?" She questioned with artificial concern, assuming it was a mark of infidelity.

Unaware of his girlfriend's jealousy, Malfoy answered honestly. "Today." He massaged his neck absently. "Nymphadora… FUCK!"

Hermione slapped him. She then proceeded to shower him with feeble punches to his handsome face.

"Hermione!" Malfoy attempted to understand what she was yelling at him as she continued to unsuccessfully land hits on her target.

"--enjoy--" Hit, slap, hit. "--tramp--" Growl. "--purple hair--" Sniffle, the punches were becoming weaker. "…hickie."

With his body, he skillfully pinned Hermione against the mattress, resting his weight on his arms. They were resentfully glaring at one another, for differing reasons. "Hickie?" Malfoy questioningly stared down at her . He nearly laughed. The witch thought his bruise was a hickie. Then he frowned, suddenly making sense of her outburst.

_By purple hair she certainly meant Nymphadora… hickie--_

Rather than ridiculing his girlfriend for her stupidity, Malfoy decided to gently handle the situation.

"The bruise is from Nymphadora." He began slowly, seeing some tears form in her eyes. He didn't know whether to roll his eyes or to savor her (first) display of jealousy. "She nearly punctured my neck when viciously jabbing at it with her _wand_. Not her _tongue_." Malfoy nuzzled her neck lovingly. "She's my cousin, have you forgotten?"

He heard her give just a strangled laugh in response.

"Jealousy is very becoming on you, Granger." He muttered against her neck.

"I was not--"

Malfoy pulled away from her slightly, just enough to meet her eyes, daring her to complete the denial.

Dating a Hogwarts heartthrob (and newly crowned most eligible underage bachelor) trained Hermione to disregard his flirtatious nature outside their Common Room. Fighting him about harmless smirks and friendly hugs was futile, knowing it was her who shared his bed at night. She didn't know but it bothered Malfoy that she displayed such strength when he'd walk past with an arm around a gorgeous girl's shoulder. It maddened him that she never once told him off for disrespecting their relationship by shamelessly flirting with someone else. He was flabbergasted to find she was unaffected by the rumors of trysts in empty classrooms.

"You let her into your room." Hermione said softly. She was never threatened because she knew those insignificant girls would never be given a chance to see (let alone touch) her territory; Malfoy's bed, his naked body, and most especially his heart. Charming the Heads Suites to allow only the Heads entrance had been done at Hermione's request. This eliminated any possibility of girls coaxing the Head Boy for a "tour" of his suite (without the excuse of a charmed suite, Malfoy could not refuse due to his reputation).

He understood. Malfoy certainly noticed the strange joy she took in being the only girl he allowed in his bedroom. He honestly thought she requested the charm as a private joke only he could understand. Well, he had laughed when he heard her speaking with McGonagall about it. Not once had he considered that his girlfriend was capable of being so territorial!

Malfoy kissed her, deeply and thoroughly, as if apologizing for allowing a female into his bedroom (even if the said female was just his cousin). The kiss was the closest to an apology Hermione was going to receive from him-- he was certainly not sorry for spending the day with Tonks. "She's my _cousin_." He repeated, smirking.

"I've been an absolute hag today." She confessed, caressing the reddened areas of his face-- areas which received the hits she actually managed to land.

"Because…?"

Hermione softly smacked him before resuming her caresses. "I was jealous, all right!" She then smiled coyly. "And I didn't forget she was your cousin… I'm just very aware you Purebloods like your cousins entirely too much--"

"It's _you_ I like entirely too much." He intended to very bitterly declare this but the statement lacked resentment. "It's unhealthy, really. You see, rather than ridiculing you for stupidly assuming I was involved in adulterous activities, I'm instead reassuring you that I like you entirely too much to be unfaithful."

The brief playful nature of their banter dissipated once their eyes met meaningfully. Infidelity was a very tentative subject in their relationship. The relationship began while his previous relationship had yet to be ended-- he was cheating on Pansy to be with Hermione. Malfoy felt no remorse for his infidelity, because of this, he knew Hermione could assume his lack of shame meant he may easily do the same to her. But what made the Gryffindor unlike his ex-girlfriend was that Malfoy loved Hermione. Regardless of the humor of being paired with his cousin, of all witches, _she had accused him of being unfaithful_. Her jealousy was acceptable (appreciated, actually). But her accusation was neither acceptable or appreciated. Infidelity was one difficulty their relationship would never endure.

"You're bizarrely vocal about your feelings tonight." She noted softly.

"Only because you must be reminded I like you so bloody much that…" He paused dramatically. "I don't _like_ you." Smirking, Malfoy stared down at her defiantly, knowing she had expected him to say those **three words**. The timing was appropriate. _Appropriate _meant predictable to Malfoy-- he refused to be predictable. His remark certainly did not hurt Hermione rather she was annoyed, eager to learn the intent behind his words. "I stopped _liking _you ages ago." Perfect. She hadn't anticipated that, the Slytherin was smiling--faintly, but he was smiling.

Hermione only smiled before brutally colliding her lips into his, her hands laced themselves with his blond hair. He responded immediately, greeting her tongue with his. Malfoy growled when she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as the kiss intensified. It was amazing how he found ways to tell her he loved her without actually _saying_ _it_. This would bother most girls, but their relationship thrived in complexity. His witty alternatives to saying "I love you" never failed to touch her deeply. And in turn, she allowed…_needed_… **DEMANDED **Malfoy to delve very deeply into her--quite literally.

"I don't _like_ you either." Hermione replied in a sultry whisper, feeling his reawakened excitement as her legs tightened around him.

Her nightgown covered very little, still Malfoy believed it covered too much. Normally the Slytherin would have impatiently torn the concealing nightgown, but a lack of attire would later become a problem at Hermione's departure before sunrise. His hurry to undress his girlfriend was too insignificant to risk having her depart inadequately clad in her knickers carrying the remnants of a torn nighty. Coming across an early riser would be both disastrous and humiliating. The nightgown was simply left gathered above her waist; two layers separated them-- their underwear. He rhythmically rammed his arousal against her quickly moistening knickers. Hermione hardly noticed him untangle her fingers from his hair, in turn interlocking their hands (a habit he developed during intimacy). Having successfully kept her entirely preoccupied by his tongue and come-inspiring thrusts, Malfoy somehow managed to skillfully slip his gift onto her right ring finger. Although Hermione was arching into his thrusts, eloquently moaning, and eagerly exploring the lips and tongue she knew so well… the sensation of cool metal meeting her skin overpowered the sexual sensations she was feeling.

Hermione attempted to momentarily pause their _activities _in order to inspect the ring Malfoy obviously slipped onto her finger. He rejected her effort, continuing on. "Draco--" She moaned, unsure if she truly wanted him to stop mercilessly grinding himself against her. Hermione then felt him smirking against her lips as he released her hands from his hold. Panting and dripping sweat, he happily rested his entire weight on her.

"I feel as if I just finished shagging you." Malfoy muttered with amusement as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. "I mean, my dick clearly disagrees but my body's in concurrence." He was exhausted. And if Hermione wasn't going to leave him in a few short hours, their incredible foreplay would have been sufficient (simply because at Hogwarts he could wake her up anytime to continue). But alas, the circumstances were different. If he surrendered to sleep before he could take her, he'd have to relieve himself in his hand not in Hermione. He couldn't even cheat on her with his hand.

She hardly heard him. Mesmerized, Hermione admired the stunning pink and white diamond encrusted band. In the photograph she saw earlier, she hadn't really taken time to study the intricate arrangement of the diamonds. Polka dots, the pattern and colors of her bikini. The bikini, its pattern, and colors symbolized his realization of his attraction to her. She recalled overhearing her boyfriend's words to Zabini in the Infirmary:

"_Cormac McLaggan assisted in my realizing Hermione as a woman, an __**attractive **__woman, rather than just my academic adversary."_

Discovering a very scantily clad Hermione at the lake with McLaggan was a lasting memory for Malfoy. Purchasing a gift commemorating that evening ensured eternal remembrance.

Sometime during her admiration of the ring, Malfoy pulled away from her slightly--just enough to be able to watch her.

"You _wanted _me the night you caught us at the lake." Hermione confidently declared, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him shrug, not really denying nor confirming her claim. Malfoy was smirking, she just didn't know. She initiated a kiss, one different from the others they shared earlier. This kiss was not fueled by intense desire-- Hermione kissed him slowly…gently…lovingly. "Thank you." She whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I love it. I love you."

Malfoy caressed her lips with his. "Happy Christmas."

"And I don't care how exhausted you are, Draco. We are having sex tonight." She was determined to display just how thankful she was for his gift.

He made no objection, already removing her nightgown--

"Wait." Hermione requested as he threw her nighty over his shoulder. Clad only in her bra and knickers, she reached for her gift on his nightstand.

He eyed her incredulously as she handed him a small velvet box. "Witch." Malfoy grumbled, unhappy she had purchased a gift for him against his wishes. Having grown up in a wealthy family, his mother showered him with presents _hourly_. His exposure to such extravagant gift giving left him rather bored of the practice very early in his adolescence. Nearly eighteen, Malfoy found receiving gifts very trivial and pointless. Honestly, the bloke has _everything_. Although he expressed he wished only to participate in the _giving_ aspect of Christmas, Malfoy knew she would still acquisition a present for him. And Hermione's presents always (no matter the occasion) awoke that childlike anticipation he felt years ago when unwrapping his gifts from his mother.

Hermione watched his eyes gleam approvingly, removing the pendant from the folds of velvet.

"You mentioned the chain your father left you was accompanied by a hideous Dark Mark pendant. It'd be a shame not to wear that gorgeous, antique chain. So I had a pendant custom-made." Hermione fingered the black chain dangling around his neck.

He nodded absently, meticulously studying the black diamond pendant. Noticing the engraving on the back, he finally met her gaze. "The number three. Very original, Hermione." Malfoy smirked, unexpectedly leaning down to express his gratitude with his tongue. He rolled off Hermione, proudly charming the pendant onto his chain. He then aimed his wand over his shoulder, weakening the flame in the fireplace. His bedroom darkened considerably.

Malfoy violently jerked her underwear off before laying atop her once more.

They were hungrily eyeing one another.

"Hello." He greeted in a hoarse whisper, grinning wolfishly--

--obviously, he relieved himself without the use of his hand.

**000**

Ginny awoke abruptly, hearing a loud moan from the bed beside hers.

"Hermione?" The redhead asked, yawning.

Little sunlight flooded their small bedroom but Ginny easily distinguished her roommate's lone figure snuggled up in her blanket.

"You must be sleeping well if you're moaning like that." Ginny jokingly muttered to Hermione's sleeping figure.

Hermione's fierce night of lovemaking not only resulted in several incredible orgasms but severe soreness everywhere below her waist. She felt the pain even as she slept, hence the moaning.

Sitting up, Ginny glanced at the clock positioned on the nightstand between her bed and Hermione's. It was almost seven.

"Too early." She declared to herself. Casting one more glance at her sleeping roommate (whose arm was now limply dangling at the side of her bed), Ginny plopped back onto a lying position.

Sleep was slowly claiming her when suddenly, she sat up. Somehow, even in the horrible lighting of the bedroom, she managed to spot a new adornment on Hermione's finger. But this detection belatedly registered in her sleepy brain. Luckily the information registered before she surrendered to sleep.

"A ring." The redhead whispered, grabbing her wand. Ron had bought Hermione an inexpensive ring ages ago, could he have possibly presented his gift to her?

Ginny silently crawled down to the floor--

"_Lumos._" With a shaking hand, she aimed her wand at Hermione's exposed right hand.

"Don't faint. **Don't faint**. If you faint, you'll forget what you just discovered!" Ginny told herself.

…Thirty minutes passed. Ginny stared at the pink and white diamond ring for thirty minutes. It took her less than ten seconds to realize it was certainly not her brother's ring. At the thirteenth second Ginny recognized the ring as the one she saw in the Daily Prophet. And it took her twenty-nine minutes and forty-seven seconds to _accept _Hermione Granger was dating Draco Malfoy.

* * *

What'd you think?

I've been very inspired to write lately. And my readers are rewarded with an update! Please, I just ask that everyone reading my updates to review! Your opinions are what keep me going!

Next, Ginny investigates! More Harry and Draco interaction. Set at Grimmauld Place at first, then possibly back to Hogwarts. I miss Blaise! Hahah.

(9:53 am)- To answer a frequent question...Hermione and Draco are not engaged. The ring was just a gift. My motive behind writing the article (from 11) was to simply inform Ginny about a ring Draco purchased for his gf... and also she needed a visual in order to recognize it, hence the photo. So no, they're not engaged! Proposing was never Draco's intent. It was just gossip going around in the Wizarding World. hahah.

3.22.08 Shameless advertisement! hahah! I have a new storyyy. Consorting with an Engima! Interested? Read and Review! :-) Thanks!

REVIEW:-)


	13. The Triangle's Blueprint

This was the hardest chapter to write, ever. I have restarted my intro at least a dozen times. A million apologies for the LONG wait. I just wanted this chapter to be perfect.

Here I go!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Breakfast was adjourned, apparently. Malfoy absently stirred what was left of his porridge as he watched everyone, except Ginny, file out of the dining room. Unlike him, the Order members were scheduled to attend a daylong conference. Because he and Ginny were not yet members, their day would not reap much productivity but instead, plenty of boredom.

"So," Mrs. Weasley unexpectedly cleared the table (leaving Malfoy to stare at the empty spot where his bowl of porridge once was) with a wave of her wand before continuing. "I'll be charming the entire house, except the conference room of course, with a fumigation spell. You two need to be out by 9:30 and may return at 5 p.m. You **will **remain in the muggle world."

"Mum..." Ginny whined, sounding just like an unsatisfied five year old or a banshee, Malfoy couldn't decide which.

"Grab your purse and coat, Ginevra, 9:30 is fast approaching." Mrs. Weasley then watched her daughter grudgingly climb up the stairs before timidly sitting across Malfoy.

"Draco, dear, I'm not at all asking you to befriend Ginny…but as a mother, I am asking that you watch over her while you two are out today. You're quite the gentleman and I know you wouldn't leave a young lady unescorted."

The Slytherin had already intended to shadow the younger girl; he knew she spent many summer days perusing the muggle surroundings of headquarters with Hermione and the two idiots.

He smirked. "She'll be watching over me, really. I'm not familiar with the area so I won't be straying too far from her, Mrs. Weasley. I don't mind if you interpret that as me _watching over her _to ease your motherly worries."

So he waited for her on the porch, Ginny eyed him oddly as the front door snapped shut behind her. She blatantly gawked when he began following her. She'd even sent him several curious glances over her shoulder as she walked but Malfoy ignored her.

They had lunch at a crowded restaurant. Despite the long wait, she managed to get a table for two (slightly impressed, he watched as she flirted with a muggle teenager) but did not plan on sitting with him (as if he wanted to join her)− but because Malfoy didn't want to wait for a table, he did, in fact, join her. She glared at him as he sat across her. The pair ate in silence. They were supposed to pay separately but their waiter charged both meals to Malfoy's credit card, the moron obviously assumed he and Ginny were involved. Ginny glared at the Slytherin when she realized he'd paid for their meal; she didn't know he'd paid involuntarily and Malfoy found it unnecessary to tell her.

After lunch, Ginny went into Odeon Cinema; Malfoy followed of course. He smirked when he realized he was ahead of her in the line for tickets. Malfoy then unknowingly gave the teenager in the ticket booth enough cash for two movie tickets. She handed the tickets to him just as he finished reading a "no refunds" sign. He carelessly threw the extra ticket over his shoulder (though surprised, Ginny caught it) before walking off to find a bathroom.

Five minutes before the movie started, Malfoy finally went into the theater. All the unoccupied seats were beside snogging and/or overly affectionate couples− except the seat beside the weasel girl. Shrugging, he sat next to her.

He fell asleep (exhausted from his passionate night with Hermione)… so he didn't realize he'd bought tickets for a movie about a bloke falling for his girlfriend's best friend.

Ginny, however, found it very ironic−

**000**

It was 4:45, Malfoy lagged three steps behind her; they were nearing number twelve Grimmauld Place. She regretted not riding a taxi but Ginny was afraid he'd pay… again. Tightening her coat around her petite body, Ginny stopped walking.

He was half a step away from her; the brisk wind danced with his long cloak, their waltz tickled her stocking-clad left leg. She could smell his cologne; his scent assaulted her tiny freckled nose. Ginny decided his cologne was the bottled manifestation his spectacular beauty.

_Ginny stop! This borderline unfaithful snake is Hermione's __**boyfriend**__!_

"You know Hermione and I are best friends, yes?"

"I don't care."

Ginny gracefully twirled to face him, he swiftly backed away from her.

"_Apparently_. Your daylong wooing has led me to believe you don't care I'm your girlfriend's best friend."

First he smirked. The smirk eventually became a grin. Then he was laughing.

…and laughing…

…and laughing!

"What is so bloody funny!" Her fists were tightly clenched and she was embarrassingly red, a red which rivaled her vibrant, fiery hair.

Yeah. The moron was still laughing.

… and then FINALLY, the infuriatingly unidentified hilarity subsided.

With a gesture, he wordlessly suggested that they keep walking. Though annoyed, Ginny complied. They walked side by side for a silent moment before he spoke.

"Well−" Malfoy coughed to smother another wave of laughter. "− I actually understand why you would think I was pursuing you romantically, it's rather comical.."

Her voice was muted by mortification; coherent thought was vanquished by utter embarrassment.

Next, he proceeded to list every instance she had overanalyzed−

"Misinterpretation 1: I was with you all day. Clarification 1: I'm not familiar with the area _and_ your mother asked me to watch over you.

"Misinterpretation 2: Lunch, I sat with you. Clarification 2: I simply didn't want to wait for a table.

"Misinterpretation 3: I paid for lunch. Clarification 3: They charged both meals to my card without my knowledge.

"Must I continue?"

She was quiet.

In silence, they walked past various locally owned boutiques which littered the route home to headquarters. Sandwiched between the shops were small cafes. Ginny observed the boutiques and cafes with great interest, as if she hadn't perused each boutique or sampled a drink or pastry from the cafes at least five times already.

"Quit feigning fascination, Weasley."

"Only if you refrain from being so disturbingly observant." Was her response.

"Oh but you're just as 'disturbingly observant.' For without a frightening level of awareness , you would not have discovered my… involvement with your best friend."

Her soft footsteps became stomps of aggravation. "_Relationship_, Malfoy. I discovered your _relationship _with my best friend."

"You sound so delightfully jealous, darling."

Ginny visibly cringed. Had she not glanced at Malfoy, the feisty redhead would have given him a scathing reply to his cringe inducing remark. But because of the said glance, she noticed he wore a teasing grin− it was faint yet impossible to miss. He was amused by her reaction− the good-natured kind of amusement, not the malicious kind.

"I'm thankful for that cringe. Being 'disturbingly observant,' I interpret your cringe as a relieving indication that you do not desire me."

It was her turn to smirk. "You misinterpreted my flattery as desire. I did not confront you because I wanted to segue into confessing my feelings!"

He merely shrugged, presumably bored of the friendly banter.

Besides their out of sync footsteps_… _silence. Their at times hostile acquaintanceship (for lack of a better, more accurate word) had astronomically evolved into… what? An undefined area between being acquaintances and… friends? _Maybe._ Though she no longer questioned Malfoy's _romantic_ intentions (she blushed a little, she'd blame it on the bitter cold if he asked), her doubt remained− what was the intent of his friendliness!

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She'd blurted out impulsively as they reached their destination.

She watched him lean against the iron railing in front of number 12 Grimmauld Place; Ginny absently recalled Ron and Harry liked to lean against the railing sometimes too. Unlike the male Gryffindors, Malfoy was poised so gracefully, as if he were posing for a cover of _Witch Weekly_!

"When she met both my best friends, as my girlfriend, she was very pleasant… despite how rudely and barbarically both Pansy and Blaise treated her in the past, indirectly and directly… she was genuinely cordial to them…" He shrugged. "I suppose I should try to do… Blaise?" As she giggled at the awkward remark, Ginny noticed his eyebrows furrow in confusion (the said awkward remark being the result of his confusion, obviously).

Her pretty eyes traced his line of vision; she followed his eyes across the street− only one person occupied a table of the outdoor patio of the swanky coffee bar, Bar Italia. She'd nearly forgotten about the existence of the pricey café, Ginny and her fellow Gryffindors (unlike the wealthy residents of the neighborhood) preferred the Starbucks a block away. But it was expected that Blaise Zabini be seen at a chic city hotspot, even if he was in _muggle_ London.

…five minutes later the Bar Italia outdoor patio had two more occupants, Ginny and Malfoy, of course.

Had she not discovered Hermione's relationship with Malfoy early in the morning, the series of strange events would not have happened… and Ginny would have definitely opposed having coffee with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. But alas, she willingly sat in the company of two Slytherins, enjoyed the conversation, and munched on the scone Zabini ordered for her.

So, after twenty-nine minutes and forty-seven seconds, the Malfoy-Granger relationship earned Ginny's numb _acceptation._

Then, after a day with Malfoy, his relationship with Hermione slowly began to earn Ginny's tentative _approval_. Approval she hadn't planned on granting until she'd spoken to Hermione, at least. But alas, approval was already being earned.

And only after graciously ordering her a scone did Blaise Zabini earn Ginny's _attention_.

**000**

Hermione set her mug of hot chocolate on the den's weathered coffee table. She then relaxed on a roomy, unoccupied sofa while Ginny lounged on an armchair beside the fire. She smiled inwardly, delighted that she needn't share the regularly crowded sofa since the house was sleeping; it was nearly 1 a.m. As Hermione was extinguishing the lights of their tiny bedroom, Ginny asked her to join her downstairs for some hot chocolate. Hermione obviously acquiesced. Malfoy had been conferencing with Dumbledore for hours, she overheard the headmaster say to her boyfriend, "I hope you're not too tired, my boy. Our discussion may be lengthy." So not really knowing what time to head to Malfoy's bedroom, she decided to accompany her best friend downstairs for hot chocolate.

Warmed by silk night robes, their hot chocolate, and the fireplace, Ginny and Hermione were ready for some much needed witch talk.

"Gin, Harry was mad with jealousy knowing you were out with Malfoy the entire day… a bit annoying, really. Though you must find it absolutely adorable." Inevitably, either girl would segue into the topic of Malfoy; Hermione hoped Ginny would give her day with the Slytherin an excellent critique…

Little did she know that Ginny was only interested in critiquing Blaise Zabini, in detail.

The "romance," for lack of a better word, between Ginny and Harry was steadily fizzling due to his preoccupation with Order business. Harry's neglect and Zabini's charm led to an easily smitten Ginny.

Ginny gave a brief eye roll before replying. "You also said that yesterday when I went to the market with Remus."

"I did no such thing!" Hermione sighed. "Ginny, what's wrong? Each time I've mentioned Harry, you've gloomily cracked a joke rather than a smile."

She studied her unpainted, un-manicured, bitten nails as she composed an answer in her head− her composition was slightly halted by her disgust at the state of her nails, Ginny made a mental note to schedule a manicure sometime soon.

"Harry's negligence has my attention astray."

"Oh? Has your attention strayed to anyone specific?" _Hopefully not my boyfriend…_

Hermione shifted uncomfortably− Ginny noticed. The redhead snuggled into her armchair with a smirk able to rival Malfoy's.

"A… _Slytherin…_" She'd whispered for dramatic effect. True, the freckled witch was being obnoxious and annoying but for her failure to inform Ginny of her relationship with Draco Malfoy, Hermione deserved the torture.

"My goodness, Ginny, he's got a girlfriend!" Hermione impulsively shrieked.

"You know Hermione, until this very moment, I was utterly convinced you weren't a jealous witch." Ginny remarked with a giggle, remembering the story Malfoy told at Bar Italia. As she'd munched on her coveted scone, Malfoy spoke of the eve of Hermione's moronic jealousy. Though she'd laughed, Ginny shook her head in response to his claim, certain Malfoy was exaggerating. Hermione reaction to Ginny's provocation proved that Malfoy had not exaggerated at all.

Footsteps, three different pairs of out of synch footsteps, interrupted Hermione's refutation.

"Malfoy, Dumbledore, and… and who?" The muggle-born asked rhetorically.

Except Ginny answered.

"Why the young man I've been trying to tell you about, of course…"

Hermione raised a curious sculpted eyebrow, confused. "I already said Malfoy, Ginny." She said this condescendingly.

"The third set of footsteps belong to Blaise Zabini, the Slytherin to whom my attention has strayed to."

"WHAT?"

**000**

Zabini listened as Dumbledore gave a very informal, sleep deprived "tour" of Order headquarters. He and Malfoy, side by side, walked behind the Hogwarts headmaster as he quietly called attention to anything he thought was worth spotlighting.

"And this," He motioned to worn, wooden double doors, "is my bedroom, the only bedroom on the first floor. I rarely rest here at headquarters… but when I do, this is the bedroom in which I slumber. Goodnight, boys. Draco, I expect you will take care of your housemate's sleeping arrangements?"

Yawning, Malfoy nodded, too tired to voice his acquiescence.

"No need, headmaster. Your hospitality is appreciated− though I won't be spending the night."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Your fellow schoolmates will be informed of your involvement with the Order eventually, Blaise. Stay the night! Forgo delaying the inevitable and join everyone for breakfast!"

Zabini massaged the back of his neck with a slight grin. "Headmaster, I didn't come here with any hopes of involving myself with the Order, though I am grateful for your offer and humbly accept. But my purpose was to propose my plan to end all questioning of Draco's loyalty to the Dark Lord. Having done so, I find no need to reveal my presence to my schoolmates. Perhaps another time."

A Daily Prophet article questioning the validity of his best mate's relationship worried him. Blaise feared the Dark Lord's inevitable curiosity− the consequences could be deadly, literally. He quickly formulated a plan which would hopefully solidify Voldemort's trust in Malfoy _and _protect the Malfoy-Granger relationship. Not knowing how to contact his best mate, Zabini wrote to the headmaster instead. Dumbledore's speedy reply instructed him to enjoy a cup of coffee at Bar Italia while he waited for Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. And just as he said, he'd made a stealthy arrival to headquarters after having coffee with Malfoy and the redhead who had too easily erased all thoughts of Pansy.

"I'll be attending a shindig in Barcelona, you see… Speaking of which, I think it would be a good idea for Draco to make an appearance as well. He's been absent from many Slytherin social events during the holidays, another nonattendance may raise suspicions."

Zabini snuck a glance at a brooding Malfoy… unsure if he'd be willing to leave…. unsure if he was mentally fit for a wild Slytherin party. Though he was utterly grateful for his best mate's quick thinking, Malfoy was very uncomfortable with the plan he, Zabini, and Dumbledore had spent hours formulating and perfecting. The forthcoming situation would certainly be a test for Malfoy's relationship with Hermione, no doubt.

_Better to be tested than be improperly discovered,_ thought the dark-haired Slytherin.

The bearded headmaster smiled gently. "If you wish to join your housemate, Draco, I only ask that you return in time for breakfast. Goodnight!" And with that, Dumbledore entered his room.

His silver eyes skimmed the dimly lit home; Zabini fell a few steps behind him, following him rather than walking beside him. Malfoy wasn't angry− no, not at all− but whenever the bloke moped, Zabini always felt as if his best mate was angry with him. He hardly spoke, he avoided eye contact, he was unpleasant company, really.

They were nearing the front door yet Zabini had no idea whether or not Malfoy was simply showing him to the exit or accompanying him to Barcelona.

Both Slytherins then noted, to themselves and not to each other, the light flooding into the dim hallway and voices emitting from the den beside the front door.

After a brief peek into the den of mismatched furniture, Malfoy sighed as he turned to his housemate. "Wait for me in there," Zabini's eyes followed his gesture at the den. "I'm going to change into something suitable."

Zabini nodded in response, watching him walk away before entering the den.

"Good evening, ladies."

He wasn't surprised to see either Gryffindor. Upon hearing her distinct voice, they both knew Hermione was inside before Malfoy even peeked into the room yet he hadn't uttered a greeting. An affect of his brooding, of course.

Neither witch verbalized their acknowledgement− Ginny rendered speechless with girlish giddiness while her best friend only smiled weakly. In Hermione's eyes he saw the hurt she felt from her boyfriend's unexpected snub; obviously she'd seen him, they'd even locked eyes for a moment before he distantly looked way.

"…you should go talk to him, Granger." Zabini suggested as he lowered himself on the armchair across Ginny's.

Hermione's audience of two listened to her mumble her agreement as she slowly, not to mention stiffly, exited the room.

"I'm glad you know about their relationship, Ginny. Hermione will be needing your emotional support when Draco is unavailable..."

Ginny quickly read between the lines− her crush was essentially promising Malfoy's unavailability.

**000**

She found him sitting on his bed, clad only in his boxers. Had she not spotted the crisp emerald robes lying on the bed beside him, Hermione would have assumed he was ready for sleep.

"Hi."

Malfoy stood, approaching her with his apology obvious in his silver eyes. A strong arm found her waist, his forehead touched hers. His snub was so trivial, already forgotten really. But Hermione knew the symptoms of his brooding, he normally ignored her; she was a bit hurt only because though it was clear he was deeply troubled, he'd simply left her sitting stupidly on the sofa with no greeting and no idea what was bothering him. Ha, hurtful and embarrassing.

"Baby…" The endearing term caught her attention. The use of pet names definitely fell under the _'I'm in deep shit'_ category. "…our relationship will be suffering some changes in the coming weeks. I'm sorry."

"What kind of changes?" Came her fearful whisper.

"The inevitable kind." He echoed her fear, cocooning her in his arms.

The couple stayed locked in their embrace for awhile, they were both silent until Malfoy remembered his best mate was waiting. "I'm off to Barcelona with Blaise. I'll be back before you wake up."

"Are you leaving me again, Draco?" She sounded so hollow and a little defeated.

"…I just told you, I'm−"

"You're going to Barcelona, I heard you." Hermione paused. "…but are you leaving me a-again?" Her voice heartbreakingly hoarsened with her uncontained grief.

He felt her eyelashes fluttering (much like Snitch wings) against his bare chest, she was unsuccessfully blinking her tears away.

Hermione felt utterly pathetic, blubbering like a damn fool on his chest. She hadn't even noticed him lifting her chin while simultaneously lowering himself to meet her lips.

He kissed her fiercely but briefly. Malfoy didn't lead her to the bed, his hands didn't leave her waist for a spot on her ass… No, he didn't want to use physicality or clever riddles to convey his love to her. Not when his witch was a sniveling mess. Not when unwanted but crucial changes were coming.

"I love you, Hermione." Malfoy whispered against her plump lips. "Leaving you was an option I gladly surrendered the moment I got you back after stupidly breaking up with you."

The Slytherin sighed into her mouth as their tongues made love, expressing the passion their bodies could not. He'd never leave her, no. But he was just so bothered by the possibility of breaking up being less painful for her than staying with him to suffer the changes…

**000**

Her sister's bratty elitist friends always celebrated the start of the new year with a bash at the Greengrass villa in Barcelona, Spain. Since Daphne's first year, Slytherins regularly partied at the spacious Spanish villa during the holidays (Daphne refused to have the festivities anywhere else). Being the youngest attendee (invited by her older sister only by obligation), Astoria Greengrass was a complete outcast. The fifth year witch didn't fit the mold of the typical Slytherin Pureblood. Hell, her friends were mostly Ravenclaws, though the Slytherins didn't know that. In order to notice her lack of Slytherin companions, someone needed to pay attention. Why waste interest on little Astoria when popular big sister Daphne demanded the attention?

Slytherin gatherings were not considered a success unless the celebration ended with everyone utterly smashed. Astoria didn't flirt with alcohol and she certainly didn't fancy the partying lifestyle. The villa's guests were pureblooded bigots, future Death Eaters and future _wives_ of Death Eaters. Astoria's father, a long time supporter of Voldemort and obviously a Death Eater, expected both his daughters to become loyal Death Eater wives, just like their mother. Daphne not only accepted her inevitable destiny but fantasized about it. The younger Greengrass witch accepted her miserable fate as well…

Scowling at the thought of a loveless (and promisingly abusive) marriage, her eyes adored the luscious surroundings. Astoria preferred the company of the flowers and fresh air rather than drunken Slytherins; the property's massive garden became her sanctuary during Daphne's outrageous gatherings.

The marble bench facing the breathtaking 26 foot antique garden fountain was already occupied, Astoria realized as she neared. She loved to sit on the bench just listening to the serene sounds of the fountain water.

"Why hello..."

The handsome, silver, Bengal cat vacantly stared at the young witch in response.

"Do you mind if I join you?" She gestured to the vacant seat beside him; Astoria could have sworn the cat shrugged.

Shrugging as well, she seated herself beside the handsome cat; his posture communicated arrogance.

"You're very aware of your magnificence, I see. Clearly you're mirroring the behavior of your snooty Slytherin owner." The cat obviously belonged to one of Daphne's guests.

He'd been staring at the fountain before her resentful remark. Seeming to understand her bitterness, his head leisurely turned to look at the witch.

"I'm not very fond of Slytherins, though being a Slytherin myself." She clarified. Astoria felt utterly deranged, venting to an animal, but she never spoke of her misery. The cat's lack of speech guaranteed he wouldn't reveal her secrets and he appeared to be interested anyway.

"I'm sure you know Death Eater and Slytherin are synonymous." She unattractively slouched before continuing. "Kitty-"

He hissed disapprovingly at her chosen name for him.

"My apologies… Mr. Bengal… does that sound better?" The hissing stopped, she assumed his silence equaled approval.

"Mr. Bengal, I don't want the life of a Death Eater's wife. Forced allegiances are simply not my cup of tea! Isolation has saved me from following the typical Slytherin lifestyle but I'll be unable to isolate myself from my _husband_, I'll be forced to follow the typical Death Eater wife lifestyle. A trophy wife… unloved, abused, and alone.

"… I refuse to disappoint my father though. Regardless of which side he fights for, I still love him. I just wish I could somehow fulfill my family obligation without actually involving myself with a malicious Death Eater. Is that possible, Mr. Bengal?" The witch chuckled lightly. "I don't know what's crazier… hoping for escape from my doomed fate, or talking to a cat…"

**000**

She woke to incessant tapping on her window. Her eyes struggled to open, thanks to the blinding sunshine; the morning sun always sparkled in Barcelona.

Astoria stumbled to her West window, where an unfamiliar owl eyed her impatiently. Curious, she quickly retrieved the letter from its beak.

"Thanks!" She called to the owl as it flew away.

She tore the seal before realizing whose family it belonged to…

_Astoria,_

_You're not crazy for having hope, what you desire is very possible. I can help you if you're willing to help me._

_Mr. Bengal._

**000**

**Two weeks later:**

They regally walked into the Great Hall, hands interlocked- a wordless announcement of their relationship. Even from her seat at the Gryffindor table, Ginny spotted the gorgeous pink and white diamond ring she had seen on _Hermione's_ finger.

As he gallantly walked his girlfriend to her seat, hundreds of whispers filled the hall, interrupting the brief silence that had fallen. They were all shocked; no one went to breakfast expecting to witness Malfoy tastefully flaunting his beloved. Hell, many had speculated the relationship was fabricated by the media. On the first week of January, the Daily Prophet even published an article questioning the existence of Malfoy's girlfriend. Needless to say, the skeptics were a bit more shocked than everyone else.

Unlike her schoolmates, Ginny Weasley did not question the existence of Malfoy's girlfriend, for it was her best friend who owned the title.

…but Ginny's best friend was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin.

She was a Muggle-born, not a Pureblood.

She had dark chocolate curls, not straight auburn hair.

She was Head Girl, a seventh year, not an unknown little fifth year.

Ginny's best friend was seated beside her when Malfoy entered the Great Hall with Astoria Greengrass.

* * *

_Crazy cliffhanger and a little confusing/vague towards the end. It'll all make sense in the next chapter! I promise! SO….I'M BACK! Hopefully this update was satisfactory and be prepared for more frequent updates! I had many issues this past year but now I'm writing again! I can only hope you guys reward my return with some reviews!_

_Many issues to address in the next chapter! I will enjoy writing it! _


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